Robbers
by rosesforwriting
Summary: The day seemed as though it couldn't get any worse. That is, until Jace finds himself trapped in a bank with a group of strangers during a violent bank robbery, hoping he gets out of it alive. Five criminals, eight hostages, two explosions and a mysterious red head lead him to believe that maybe, this situation is worse than it seems. AH, multiple pairings, rated T for violence.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hello, first multi chapter on this account hopefully. Please review and message if you have any ideas of what you want to happen, or to tell me what you think. Hope you enjoy and want it to be continued!

Robbers.

The day had started off bad; first, Jace had been unpleasantly awoken by a screeching girl in his bed, yelling at him for not remembering her name. He had forgotten that his hot water wasn't working, resulting in an unnecessarily cold shower. It had started to rain torrents of grey sleet the second he stepped out of his house and, finally, he had forgotten to pick up a present for his sister, which had resulted in him standing in a ridiculously long line at a dreary bank, hoping desperately that a large enough check would make his high maintenance sibling forget about his lack of gift.

He reached a hand up to smooth his hair, agitation making him fidget. There were only a few people ahead of him now as the bank was emptying, and he glanced at the small woman in front of him who was shuffling papers. It was only her left to go now, and she stepped up confidently, her height only just allowing her mouth to be in level with the speaker. Jace knew he shouldn't, but boredom got the better of him; he watched the transaction between the woman and the surly faced man behind the glass, frowning as their conversation became more heated.

"Listen." A melodic, female voice started. "There must be a mistake- I was paid yesterday!"

The teller sighed and typed something into his computer.

"I'm sorry ma'am, your account is overdrawn. I can't allow you to take anything out." His dull voice echoed and Jace began to feel uncomfortable; he could see the woman at the opposite teller looking equally awkward, and the remaining people in the bank attempted to look as though they weren't listening as the red head raised her voice.

"Well that is just impossible! Show me some proof that I have taken any money out, because I haven't been living off of instant coffee for fun." She placed a hand on her hips and the teller subtly wiped a bead of sweat from his brow. He began tapping on his computer again, frustration etched on his face and the woman in front of Jace picked at the seams of her worn jeans; he could tell that she was nervous, and he felt sorry for her. He had grown up, not pleasantly, but with a constant stream of money that had funded him his entire life- he had never had to 'live off of instant coffee'.

"Nope." The teller popped his words. "As I said- overdrawn. If not you, then someone with your bank details has taken a withdrawal. Sorry I can't be of more assistance."

The woman clenched her fist and began muttering to herself. Jace distinctly heard the word 'Jonathon' and almost leant in to respond, however he realised she was not talking to her and watched as she moved away, an awkward and embarrassed look on her face. It wasn't fair.

A sense of spontaneity and – surprisingly- compassion shook him and Jace suddenly took off toward the figure of the small woman that was headed to the restroom; most likely to wash away the frustrated tears that had formed in her eyes. He followed her quietly so as not to alert anyone- he wasn't even sure what he was going to say, and he was just about to reach out for her shoulder when, in perfect fashion with the bad day that he was having, the world exploded around him.

He felt himself grab onto the woman in front of him, just having time to turn his back to shield her when the blast of…something… threw him off of his feet, sending him flying. He felt shards of glass slicing at his bare arms and he gripped tightly to the stranger in his arms, world spinning as he hit the ground.

Everything was slow motion, sluggish as he rolled over, another rain of glass showering him, and Jace felt something wrap around his head. There was shouting. Someone was screaming. But everything felt as though it were underwater as Jace watched boot clad feet swim into his vision, obscured slightly by a fragile hand clutching his forehead. His mind was spinning, and he could hear someone talking near him, but it was too much. He saw a gun. There was no way that this was happening.

This was a bank robbery.

He was in a bank robbery.

He felt something hard kick at his back and the person beneath him jolted, finally bringing him back to reality. The red head was wrapped around him and they were both covered in glistening shards of fractured glass- from where, he wasn't sure. The woman had a jagged slash across her cheek, the crimson blood trickling like the spirals of her hair. Her eyes were wide, a brilliant shade of terrified emerald, and she was staring through her lashes at something behind Jace's back; turning slowly, still holding onto the woman, he saw a tall, broad shouldered man-presumably- standing over him, completely clad in black up to his piercingly black eyes. And he was talking to Jace.

"Both of you- up now and in the corner." His voice was smooth, menacing, and Jace noted his cool demeanour, along with the glistening gun that hung lamely at his side.

Shaking only slightly the pair untangled and rose to their feet, Jace pulling the woman up to stand slightly behind him, gripping her hand tightly. It was so surreal, so strange as Jace followed behind another man, all dressed in black, into the corner of the bank where there were no windows and no desks, and eight other people. Three were bank tellers: the surly older man who was sitting as though he had wet himself, sweating profusely and constantly staring at one of the men who had a gun pointed at the hostages; a taller woman with a muscular build and hazel coloured skin who was sitting with her back to the wall, and a young man with spindly arms and greasy hair.

The rest were all bank customers and they sat with varying degrees on fear etched on their faces, all watched carefully by the three men that had gathered around the group. Jace turned and sat on the ground, his head aching, and his entwined hand pulled the red haired woman down beside him. He expected her to be shaking like the blonde with fuzzy hair and watery eyes opposite him, but she just sat stoic, staring defiantly at their captor as blood trickled against her mouth.

There was another loud crash and one of the men let out a string of profanities.

"You two, guard the doors. I'm gonna see what's going on. And you lot-" He stopped, his strange blue green eyes dull and sharp under his balaclava. "Keep down, keep quiet, or you'll be sorry."

The three men all split off in different directions, and Jace finally allowed himself a moment to catch his breath. He was in a bank, during a freaking bank robbery, and now he was in some kind of crime-novel-action-movie style hostage situation. As long as Dennis Hopper wasn't involved maybe things would be alright.

Then again, knowing his luck, the situation could only go from bad to Armageddon.

Jace looked around at the rest of the group, and decided it would be a good time to gain their trust. Maybe then they would have a plan.

"Well." He said quietly, allowing only a touch of humour to colour his tone. "In any other situation I'd say that it's lovely to meet you all. I'm Jace Lightwood." He raised his brows and took in the response from the others, which was very little except from vacant stares until the dark complexioned girl with the piercing Amber eyes leant closer to introduce herself.

"Maia. Maia Roberts. I work here, obviously, but after this I reckon pursuing a career in anything else doesn't sound too bad." She grinned at him slightly, and Jace liked her. At least she wasn't afraid- that was a good sign. He watched as she dug a thick elbow into the side of the skinny boy next to her.

"Ow!" He protested indignantly. Maia raised her eyebrows. "Okay, okay. I'm Eric. I work here too, but I swear to God if we talk any louder I think they might come over here and shoot me." Eric's expression showed blatant fear, and Jace glanced over at the two men who stood poised at the front entrance; they were facing out and didn't seem to be paying much attention. He didn't know if that was a good or bad sign.

"I think that we're okay, they don't seem-" Jace was cut off by a fierce hiss exploding from the middle aged man, who was sat scrunched up as small as he could get, glaring at Jace.

"Shut up, boy! I personally don't want to die here, stop trying to get us in any more trouble than we obviously are in." He pursed his lips darkly, but before Jace could retort Maia stepped in.

"You shut up, Hodge. I for one am not gonna let these creeps terrorise me. The more we cower the worse it'll be." She turned to Jace, watching the old man huff. "Take no notice of Hodge; he's scared of his own shadow. Wouldn't be here if he didn't have to be." 'Hodge' muttered something along the lines of 'Damn straight.'

"I'm Jordan." This came from the man next to Eric; he had close cropped brown hair, and startlingly bluish eyes as well as an obvious scar on his neck that gave way to several tattoos. Despite his thuggish appearance his voice was smooth, and he looked to be the same age as Jace- early twenties. They nodded at each other in acknowledgement and Jordan spoke again, gesturing to the man beside him with dark features and a jagged mark across his cheek.

"This is Bat."

He wasn't a man of many words. Jace felt something shift, and glanced down at the red head who had just dropped his hand, the hand he hadn't realised she was still holding. She was watching the blonde girl who was sitting next to Hodge and Jace's eyes flicked over.

"Kaelie." She simply said, her tone hushed and small. They all nodded again, ignoring Hodge's look of disdain. "Look, I don't really know what's going on, but I really don't want to die here."

Maia turned her nose up and retorted.

"None of us are really in the mood to die, Princess. Just keep your head down and do what they say."

Kaelie looked slightly shell shocked and looked away, ignoring the dirty looks from Maia.

Tensions were obviously high.

The woman next to Jace looked up once more, a vacant expression on her face.

"I'm Clary." She said quietly, her voice melodic and soft. "And I don't want to scare anyone, but I think we should be quiet. Someone's coming over."

They all glanced around and saw that she was right- the one with black eyes that had been stood at the door was now walking toward them, a small object in his hand. He approached the group.

"One of you has a phone on you."

It was cryptic, and everyone shuffled back as the object let out a beeping noise. Kaelie flinched.

"Shit." Eric muttered. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his cell phone, his face pale white and palms sweating. "Look man, I didn't realise-"

He was cut off as the black clad man slammed a foot into his chest, sending him hard into the wall. Everyone gasped and moved back as he moved to pick up the phone that Eric had dropped, instead cringing as he brought a hard soled boot down to crush the phone. Eric let out a groan as he watched, and Jordan subtly helped him sit up.

"Stay put." The guy once again strode away, and the group watched as three people emerged from behind the banks counter, all of them dressed in the same black, nondescript outfits. This made five.

Clary watched carefully as the five of them came together, muttering to themselves. This wasn't right- something wasn't right.

"Not that I'm an expert on bank robbery." She whispered carefully to Jace. "But isn't this taking a while."

He looked at her sceptically.

"As long as they aren't bothered with us, I'm good. They can take as long as they like."

She raised her eyebrows and glanced over to Eric, who was slightly pale and green looking, but otherwise seemed fine. Bat was watching the five robbers in rapt attention, and Maia was staring at her hands.

But no matter what, Clary couldn't shake the feeling that something was about to happen.

She glanced over at Hodge, and then at the group of five, then she wiped the blood away from her eye, staring at the scarlet trail on her finger tip. Jace watched her do this, and leant forward to whisper again.

"It's all going to be fine." He said as reassuringly as possible, and she grimaced.

Things were definitely not fine.

The group sat up straighter as their captors made their way over, walking briskly as the tallest of the group stepped forward.

"Raphael." He barked at one of his group, a man with dark brown eyes. "Set a charge at the door. And you lot." He raised a small hand gun, and Bat flinched. The other of his men followed suit. "Follow me."

The blue eyed man leant forward and grabbed Jordan by the collar, hauling him to his feet, pointing a gun to his head and making him walk. He obviously seemed like a threat. Slowly but surely the group of eight rose up and followed, Hodge bounding along, eager not to get on the wrong side of them. Clary was the last to stand, the same blank look on her face. No emotion. Jace grabbed her hand and attempted to lead with her behind him- a protective instinct overcoming him- but he felt a tug at his wrist and the warmth of her small hand was pulled away.

Clary let out a small yell and found herself with an arm around her waist and something hard pressed against her head. Something she didn't want to think about.

"Don't go trying anything, sweet." It was the voice of the black eyed man, volatile like an unexploded shell, something evil hiding behind his words.

Jace spun around to face him, but was kicked forward by another one of the men. He just held his fists tightly, watching the rest of the group whilst listening to the automatic whimpers that Clary let out every time her captor shoved the gun into the small of her back harder.

They were led through to the back of the bank, dim lights casting shadows off of their faces. Jace could hardly see, and he caught his breath as he was pushed into a room that he could tell was small and stale. A foot came out in front of him and he lost his balance, falling into the dark room and hitting the cold floor with a thud. He felt other bodies in the room, the shuffle of anxious breath, and he turned just in time to see the glint of an eye as the heavy metallic door was closed on the hostages.

Silence.

"Jesus Christ." Came Maia's voice, loud and echoing in the tense room. "And I thought that things couldn't get any worse."


	2. Goldmine

Chapter 2: Goldmine.

"Happy Birthday Izzy!" The ebony haired girl grinned widely with a set of perfect teeth before leaning in to blow out her candles. The cake in front of her was huge and smelled fragrantly of vanilla and butter, her favourite smell; not that she would let on. She looked around the room that was packed with her family and friends, all milling around with drinks and clapping, wishing her a happy birthday, whilst her youngest brother Max and his friends ran rampart about the house. Someone whisked the cake away from her- probably to slice it in the kitchen- and she turned to face her brother who was standing beside her, texting frantically. She raised a perfectly sculpted brow.

"Let me guess." She said to Alec, hands on hips. "He's not coming."

Jace was her other brother, only a year older, and he was famous for forgetting important things- most likely blowing off her birthday party in order to flirt with some girl at some skeezy bar.

Alec's eyes widened, and Izzy could see worry glistening behind his blue eyes. Typical Alec.

"He was meant to turn up, I swear Izzy. He even texted me saying he was picking up your gift." Izzy looked on sceptically. "I'm serious Iz, he should be here." A nervous edge laced his tone and Izzy sighed.

"Alec. He's probably just got an early start to a weekend of binge drinking- he'll be fine." She patted his shoulder lightly, careful not to chip her gleaming nails. Alec pulled her into a hug, muttering a happy birthday into her laughing face before pulling away to try and call Jace again. Izzy was probably right, he was fine…

/

Eric had sneezed twice. Bat had blessed him twice. Jace had been wringing his hands for what seemed like hours, and Hodge was nowhere in sight.

"He's gonna be fine." Said Maia. She had confidently informed them that they were sitting in a room of deposit boxes and it was completely soundproof; after spending ten minutes searching for a light switch they had flipped the luminous lamps on, and Maia was proved correct by the three walls lined with small locked boxes.

"Hodge is the manager; they probably just want his key or something." She was sitting with her back against the wall of boxes and, along with Clary, was the one showing the least emotion.

Kaelie had broken down in sobs twice and- after rejecting Eric's eager advances- had ended up sitting close to Jace on the opposite side of the room to Maia and Clary, gripping him too tightly with his arm reluctantly thrown over him. Every now and then she would let out a feeble sob before clutching him a bit tighter.

Great.

"Yeah, I'm sure Hodge is fine, you saw him he's not exactly gonna sass anyone." Eric let out, before once again sneezing. Bat just looked up at him, and Eric looked sheepish.

"I sneeze when I'm nervous."

He was so odd, Jace thought. Kind of like Izzy's nerdy boyfriend…

Izzy! Maybe someone had noticed that he wasn't at her party. Then again, no one had noticed a bank full of people being taken over, and he wasn't exactly a reliable party guest.

"The police must have noticed by now." Jordan said carefully, and the others nodded. Sure, the five captors couldn't hear them, but they also couldn't hear what they were plotting outside.

Another few minutes past, and Jace looked over to watch Clary. In the dim light of the room her under eyes looked tired, her skin frighteningly pale, and the bloody gash on her cheek standing out more than ever. The haggard look of the stranger urged him to check his own injuries and he squirmed out from Kaelie's grasp, ignoring her fake sniffle.

He walked to the middle of the room, and could see Jordan watching as he lifted up the side of his shirt to inspect his side, which had been aching since he fell. He heard a soft gasp, and looked over to see that Clary was watching too, her normally blank face showing worry. His own eyes locked with hers, and they caught each other in a stare.

"Jeeze, Jace." Came Jordan's slack voice. "That looks like a bitch."

A large, burgundy mark had formed below his ribs, and a few scattered cuts ran across his arms. He'd had worse.

"Just inspecting the damage, it's nothing really."

He dropped the hem of his shirt back down, not liking the attention.

/

Clary was feeling sick. It had been years since she had been locked in a stuffy, dark room with no way out, and this time she was here with strangers. She was terrified, and slightly annoyed that she had even ended up here, but mostly scared. It took everything she had to sit stoic and calm beside Maia, but seeing the giant bruise on Jace- the stranger that had saved her life less than two hours ago- had finally made her realise. Things were getting worse.

She took in a deep breath and heard Jace and Jordan say something, but nothing filtered through. She was panicking.

She sucked in another breath, pressing her hand to her stomach in an attempt to staunch the flow of anxiety in her stomach, but it was getting too much. A soft hand reached out to grip her wrist and she flinched back, blurriness replacing her vision.

"I'm fine." She stated, her words thick and sluggish. She didn't want to seem like Kaelie, whiny and unhelpful. She sucked in another breath, focusing on the idea of not drawing attention to herself, and managed to calm her breathing slightly. The gash on her cheek hurt like a bitch, burning painfully against her skin, and the pain brought a little clarity.

Maia was leaning forward, hand outstretched but not quite touching her, and all of the others were watching her warily.

"I'm fine. Sorry- I'm just getting a kind of nervous." Clary glanced down at the ground, letting out a nervous bark, allowing her curtain of hair to sweep over her face.

Her face was stark white, and Jace felt a swell of admiration- she was apologising for being scared during a hostage situation Who even did that?

The room fell silent again. It was unbearable, like being trapped with every sense deprived. Jace coughed and spoke up.

"I forgot my sister's birthday." He said quietly. Everyone tuned in, curious to his motives. "I was only here to get out a specialty check- I thought maybe a big enough check would make her forget the lack of a gift."

Bat chuckled sadly and Jordan looked on wistfully.

"Younger or older?" Jordan enquired.

"Younger, only by a year. Just turned twenty one."

They smiled at each other weirdly- having conversations seemed like a strange idea.

"I hate this job." Eric muttered. Maia raised a brow. "No offence, Roberts, but it sucks ass. Hodge hates me, I work both weekends and, oh, don't forget, we're being held captive. So I think I quit."

Maia laughed and agreed.

Tension was bubbling down in the room, and the quiet seemed less deafening.

That is until the lock of the door let out a resounding crack.

The remaining seven rushed to the back wall, Jace pulling Eric down next to him, squeezing Kaelie into the corner. The door was opening, and Clary could feel her heart beat quicken as two men stepped forward both without their masks on.

One was tall, buff and terrifying with oddly watery blue eyes, pale and searching. He stood with a gun in his hand, pointing at no one and everyone, blonde hair pulled back in a greasy ponytail.

The other one was fearsome.

His sharp, angular faced matched his lean body, and he moved with all the grace of a cat stalking prey. His hair was dark black, too black, and it matched his eyes- they were glinting, shining like an ebony abyss of evil.

And they were looking straight at Clary.

"Her." He grinned, the cat like gesture stretching his taught face into a grimace of sorts. "Bring her, Meliorn."

Clary clutched the ground as he stalked toward her and braced for impact; instead she was shocked as she saw three figures rush to their feet.

Maia had risen up, golden skin stretched tight like an Amazonian as she pulled back a fist and slammed it into 'Meliorn's' mouth. He stumbled back and let out a yelp of surprise exactly as Jordan rammed his stomach, knocking the gun from his grasp. Eric stumbled to his feet, watching in slight awe as Jace charged down the black eyes man, attempting to get a tackle in before it was too late. He couldn't let them take her, not now, not when they could do anything to her.

It was chaotic and terrible; fists flew at every angle and Clary found herself throwing her entire body into Meliorn's fist that had been heading for Maia, slamming her head against a deposit box, and rattling the wall. There was a screech in the background, and both girls ducked as Jordan took down Meliorn.

Jace had his hands on their captor's neck, and felt himself heave a sigh of preconceived triumph as he felt the man he was fighting with stop moving. Maybe they could fight their way out of it?

Or maybe not. Despite the loud noise and the frivolous punches, everyone stopped dead still when a shot rang out, echoing through the small room, followed by a yelp from someone. The lights went out, leaving the only light the sliver coming from outside the room.

Jace was frozen to the spot; someone had been shot. He released his grip and made to move away, blood running like ice his veins, when a pair of heavy hand grabbed him tightly by the wrists and hauled him out of the room. He was momentarily blinded by the light and was just adjusting when something hard and sharp hit the back of his head, and everything went black.

/

"Jace; it's Alec. I swear if you've left your phone off whilst forgetting your only sister's birthday, I'll punch you."

"Jace. Pick up your damn phone- Izzy just cut the cake, and she seems pissed. Just come over."

"Okay, now even Max is asking for you. He wants to play Avengers- where are you?"

"I'm getting worried. The party is nearly over. Just… just call me, okay?"

/

Jace awoke to the smell of stale bread and a throbbing neck. He was sat in what appeared to be an office, most likely the office of a snob as crinkled up sandwich wrappers lined the floor at his feet. He wrinkled his nose, and took in his surroundings.

The room was small and square with two doors. One was closed- most likely locked- and had a dark raincoat slung on the coat hook. The other was on the wall adjacent to the first door; it was large, looking heavy, and slightly ajar. Jace guessed it was a store cupboard.

Groaning to himself as he jolted his head, he tried to reach out to swipe at his hair- only to find that his hands were bound behind his back, and he wondered how he hadn't noticed before. He could feel something thin and chafing at his wrists and a twist of his legs confirmed that his ankles too were bound to the bench.

His mouth was gagged with what felt like tape, so he desperately began to push at it with his tongue and lips, trying to get free.

What was going on?

/

Clary Fray was used to darkness. In fact, she had expert experience in the darkest and shadiest of situations- her childhood was dark, her adult life was getting even darker, and one of her biggest fears- not that she would admit it- was the dark.

So it came as a shock to her when, as woke up to gleaming bright lights, she wished to could lock herself back into the darkness of her unconsciousness.

She was back in the bank lobby, sat on the floor with her hands tied in front of her wit thick tape. Her head screamed when she moved it so she assumed someone had smashed her over the head. Someone violent.

She knew that this was coming. It couldn't be him. It couldn't.

But of course, it was.

As Clary blinked the blur from her eyes he came into focus. She should have guessed when things got messy; her father had found her. And he wanted something.

His eyes were still as black as they used to be, matching those of the catlike man beside him. Valentine Morgenstern was tall and fierce, a cold glint sparking in his eyes as he glared down at his daughter, lips set into a harsh, thin line.

When she was seventeen he had been arrested on suspicion of murder, among other things. After breaking out of a transport vehicle, he had disappeared off the grid; her mother, Jocelyn, had relocated her and her brother to New York, and two years later she had moved out, changing districts as often as possible as she never quite felt safe.

And this was why. He had come back.

"Clarissa." He said carefully, ignoring her flinch. He leant down to her level, balancing on his legs as he stared into her wide green eyes. "It's good to see you."

No. She felt her skin crawl, watching her own reflection in his eyes; she wouldn't let him scare her. Not again. She was going to find out what he was doing here, and she was going to get out of this.

"I can't really say the same for you, Valentine." She spat the last word, making sure he knew what she thought. "What do you want from me? Why are you here?"

He chuckled, the man above him turning to walk away to talk to another man at the door, and Clary watched him.

"I think you know what I want." He was menacing as hell, but Clary just swallowed, ignoring the chafe in her wrists.

"I really think I don't. So either tell me, or get the hell away from me."

He had a curious look on his face. And then it lit up, a horrific glee colouring his tone.

"She never told you, did she? Same Jocelyn- making stupid decisions." Clary clenched her teeth at the insult.

"Get away from me." She said quietly, the tension getting too much. He laughed again.

"Sebastian. Get me a seat." He rose to his feet, and sat down and folded his legs as the black eyed "Sebastian" came forward with a chair. He settled down and folded his hands, as if to tell some kind of a story. Which, in a way, he was.

"When your mother took you away from me four years ago, she took your birth records that name me clearly as your father. I want those if I want to take you with me when I leave for Europe."

The colour drained from Clary's face, and bile rose in her throat. Oh God. He was insane.

"However, she hid them. I've been searching for them for four years, searching for you for four years, and it turns out that they are her, in this bank, tucked away all this time in one of the vaults. These people-" He gestured to the two men behind him, and presumably the other two in the bank. "These people owe me a favour and are helping me out. It helps that they get a little cash in return." He grinned, a glint in his eye.

"But she also stole some valuables, and I want them back. Some family heirlooms, you could say. And once I find them, and your records, we are going to leave."

Clary swallowed hard, and spoke.

"What about the others?" She said softly, referencing the other hostages. "What are they doing here too? Why not just let them go?"

He raised an angular brow.

"Collateral damage; I'm sorry to see so many young people go, but as Raphael suggested the police are going to need a distraction." He stood up and turned away, and Clary didn't understand.

That is until she saw the bulky man with brown eyes miming an explosion behind her, and the reality sunk in.

They were going to blow up a bank.

With seven people inside.

And then he was going to kidnap her.

She just had time to turn her face to the corner before she threw up over the floor.

/

"Yo, Clary, it's Jonathon. Mom wants to know if you're coming home for her birthday, Luke is throwing a party and bringing over some friends. Oh- and I kinda borrowed some cash, hope that's okay. Call back."

/

Jordan was dying.

"C'mon man. Stay with me, just keep breathing."

Bat was holding back a yell as his best friend of ten years let his eyes flutter shut.

"Don't you dare Danny, don't you dare. It's all gonna be fine soon." Bat glanced up at Maia and Eric who were watching balefully from the other side or Jordan, and he wanted to yell at them for help. His friend had been shot, shot! With an actual gun! And the others were sitting around, unsure of what to do. Jordan was moaning groggily, and it was getting too much; in fact he was about to yell out in frustration when the- apparently catatonic- Kaelie jumped up from her place on the ground. She bent over and, with a roar of frustration, ripped a large chunk of her tight skirt off, advancing on Bat with the lump of fabric.

"Get out of my way." She growled, pulling her blonde hair out of her face and tying it back.

Bat didn't move. She glared at him, and Maia and Eric shared a shocked look.

"I know I look like a bimbo. I know I act like one, but I'm a nurse. A trauma nurse-and I swear if you don't move it, your friend is gonna bleed out." Bat reluctantly, but hastily, moved out of the way, resting Jordan's disoriented head in his lap as Kaelie slumped down beside him and ripped his shirt off. There was a large and terrifying crimson stain on his abdomen, and Bat turned his head as Kaelie bound it tightly, staunching the sluggish flow with a piece of Jordan's own shirt. She nodded slightly, knowing it wasn't a fix, but would buy him time. Then she rose to her feet, brushed off her hands, and aimed a hearty kick at one of the walls of lockers.

"Woah!" Eric yelled, throwing his hands over his ears. "What the heck are you doing?"

Kaelie kicked the box again.

"My dad used to keep a gun in one of these when I was a kid." She said, taking a deep breath. "I'm gonna try and find something. I'm pretty sure; I don't want to die here."

Maia rose to her feet and threw her body against the same wall. She shared a look with Kaelie.

"Princess is right." She said roughly, pushing back a golden lock. "I've seen people put weird shit in here- there's gotta be something."

Bat closed his eyes and rested his head against the wall. Another series of kicks were heard, and Bat heard Eric sigh and heave himself to his feet. It was kinda futile, and Bat zoned out, but it was okay to have hope.

/

There was a piece of broken plastic on Jace's chair. He has spent at least, what felt like, an hour trying to find a sharp object to get his hands free, and the only thing he could find was the sharp, sticking out piece of plastic on the underside of the chair he was bound to. So he began rubbing his hand ties against it, cringing every time he scratched at his wrist and desperately listening at the door to make sure no one came for him. He thought that he was making headway, making some kind of dent to the cables around his wrists when voices began approaching the door. He stopped moving, and sat as still as he could, golden eyes narrow and perceptive.

"Ow! Let go of me!" He heard a yell, followed by a dull thud, and strained to listen closer.

"Where are you taking me- where are the others?" It was Clary.

"Shut up, bitch. Just move."

The door burst open, and he watched appalled as Clary was practically carried in by the man he had attempted to choke, and he glared harshly as he threw her into the room, opposite to him. Her arms were bound together, but her legs were free, and he watched as she kicked out roughly at the man, only to moan in pain as he sank his foot into her abdomen, and Jace cringed.

"You can't be trusted with the others, sweet, so you and Golden boy are gonna hang out until I come and get you, okay?" Clary just spat at him. Did she have a death wish? He kicked her once more, and turned to meet Jace's seething gaze.

"What crawled up your ass, sunshine?" He laughed hard, and walked out of the door, slamming it firmly shut and twisting the lock with a definite click.

Jace watched as Clary rolled over and finally he was able to spit off his tape.

"Are you okay?" He asked quickly, panic colouring his tone as her still body stayed in a foetal position. It was a minute before she answered, but she rolled over onto her front and pushed herself off of the ground.

Despite the large, purplish bruise on his face and the messed up hair, he looked okay, and Clary trusted him. They were in this together.

"I'm fine." She muttered, looking him up and down. She took in his bound hands- Jace was going to make a joke about her checking him out, but decided it was inappropriate. "Are you okay?" She repeated softly, staring straight into his eyes. He simply nodded.

"Can you see anything sharp in here?" She enquired, and Jace watched as she rose to her feet. She really was looking for trouble.

"Uh, not really. There's something on the back of this chair, but I can't tell what it is."

Clary crossed over to him, and for the first time Jace noticed her slim stature- slightly too bony. Her plain white t-shirt hung off her, spattered in mud and blood and tears, and her jeans were tight on her short legs. She approached his chair, and Jace could feel her soft breaths as she dropped to her knees behind him to examine the chair.

"It's a bit of broken plastic." She said quietly. "I think it can cut through the tape on my hands, but you have cable ties on. Let me just get my hands free then I'll check the desk."

Jace nodded numbly and dug his feet into the ground as she scraped her hand against the plastic. She did it for a few moments, gasping and hissing every time she scratched herself, and finally she felt the tape come undone.

Valentine's goons weren't as smart as he thought they were.

"Got it." She muttered. Clary spied some of the long cuts up Jace's arm from the plastic, and hatred rose up in her. Innocent people were getting hurt because of her. Because of her sadistic father. She needed to stop him.

Bravely, she reached out her hand and stroked a finger along his arm; Jace let out a soft breath, feeling a shiver as she did so.

"Does it hurt." She whispered. He frowned and tried to turn his head to look at her.

"Probably no more than that gash on your cheek."

Clary blushed, then rose to her feet, hiding her face in a curtain of hair.

"I'm gonna look for some scissors."

Jace nodded, and closed his eyes to the sound of her rummaging in what he assumed to be a desk behind him.

"C'mon, Clary." He whispered.

/

"Score!" Maia nearly yelled as two deposit boxes came loose from the wall. She tugged at the top one and found it coming loose, and Kaelie helped her lift them out and place them on the floor. Eric was working of the opposite wall, and had taken to ripping the buckle off of his shoe and using the cheap metal to try and break into the boxes.

Jordan- who was slightly more coherent- had also given him his tongue piercing, and he was confident he could pick the lock.

Kaelie and Maia moved the boxed toward Bat; they weren't massive, but the two of them did hold a considerable amount.

"Okay." Kaelie said, rummaging through. She pulled out a load of papers and dumped it on the floor, and grinned at what was underneath.

It was a gleaming knife; most likely antique by the look of the handle, and it looked sharp as hell. She handed it to Bat, and he tucked it into his belt.

"Not a gun, but if we plan on fighting our way out I guess it will help." He said sceptically.

"Shots, anyone?" Maia said next, and she pulled out an expensive looking bottle of alcohol from her box. Both Bat and Jordan raised an eyebrow, but Kaelie clapped her hands girlishly.

"No, that's perfect! Give it here." Maia laughed.

"I'm not sure getting wasted is a good idea, Princess." She said, and Kaelie rolled her eyes, grabbing the bottle and inspecting it.

"It's not for drinking. It's moonshine, and it's the perfect percentage to clean out Wolfy's battle wound."

"Wolfy?" Jordan croaked, amused.

"Yeah- I assume that's a wolf tattooed on your neck?" Kaelie enquired; Jordan just nodded lamely, reminding himself not to underestimate her perception.

"Right." Maia began, lifting up her box. "Nothing else useful in here- I'm gonna shove it back in so no one notices if they come in."

Kaelie agreed, and the two of them shifted the boxes as Eric let out an irritated sigh.

"Eric, I'm feeling like brute force is the only way to go." Said Maia to him as he continued to jiggle a lock. He frowned.

"I'm gonna get it." He said confidently, and the group just turned away as he continued to claw at the box.

/

"Clary, just me again. Mom's kinda worried now- you aren't working today, right? She wants you to call her, she doesn't get why you're not picking up. I totally get it if you want some space just… You know how she gets. Call her, yeah."

/

Who kept a flick knife in their desk?

Clary decided not to question it further, and panic urged her on as she picked up the small, sharp knife from the desk drawer and brought it over to Jace.

"Okay, stay really still, I found a knife."

Jace raised a brow.

"Who the hell keeps a knife in a bank?" He asked aloud, and Clary nodded.

"Right? Okay, please just don't move, I don't want to slice you up any more than I have to."

Jace chuckled awkwardly, but sucked in a breath and stayed still as possible, hoping to keep his injuries at a minimum. With one swift flick of the- apparently really sharp- knife, the cable ties sprung apart, and Jace sighed in relief and brought his stiff arms forward to rub his wrists. Clary walked in front of him, and Jace tried to bend over to get to his feet, but he groaned in pain as he jolted his bruised ribs.

"Hey, hey! Stay put, I've got it." She got on her knees in front of him, and Jace had to look at the ceiling so as not to take the sight of her red head so close to his lap too inappropriately.

Damn, pull your head out of your ass, Jace thought.

Clary had to saw a bit to get through the thick cable ties on his ankles, but eventually they came undone. They both immediately rose to their feet, and the first thing Jace did was turn around to get to the heavy desk. Pushing aside the chair, Clary saw what he was doing.

"Help me drag the desk in front of the door?" Jace enquired, ignoring the pain in his chest. Clary rushed forward, tucking the knife back into its case and pushing it into her jeans.

"Yeah."

It took effort, but the injured pair eventually managed to push the desk against the door, and for good measure Clary stacked the chair on top.

Jace huffed out a heavy breath, and Clary got a good loo at him for the first time.

His hair was quite long, not styles, and framed his face in almost a halo of gold. He was far taller than her, well into the six feet, and had chiselled arms and torso- which probably explained how he had done most of the moving of the desk. His cheekbones were high, marking off his extremely attractive face, and his eyes. God, his eyes were mesmerising. They were framed with dark lashes, molten gold, and they were staring right at her.

"You good?" He enquired. She flushed, and finally allowed herself to feel the painful ache in her abdomen.

"Yeah, I'm good. What now though?" She asked, and she saw his eyes travel the room. "Have you checked this door yet?" She asked, realising it was a stupid question.

"No, it's just a supply closet."

Clary looked at his questioningly.

"What?" He asked, responding to her look.

"There's a breeze coming from it."

Jace watched carefully as she spun toward said door and tugged at it. It was extremely stiff. She put all her strength into it and tugged, hard, and she would've fallen over backwards as the door flew open if it weren't for the pair of strong arms that wrapped around her for the second time that day, holding her up.

She spun around.

"Thanks." Clary said, avoiding his eyes. "And thank you- for earlier. You saved me." Jace rubbed the back of his neck and just nodded.

"No problem. Now, check that out."

Clary's eyes widened in shock as she turned back to look through the door.

A flight of stairs, most likely leading to the roof.

"Jackpot." She muttered. "Those dumbasses, sticking us in here." Jace almost laughed at her cuss, and watched as she walked into the ante chamber, hope blooming in his chest.

That is, until Clary choked on a sob, and stumbled back into him.

He grabbed a hold of her and she moaned into his chest. Panicked, he took a step into the chamber, Clary shaking in his arms, and he gasped, holding back vomit.

Right there, under the first set of stairs, was Hodge's cold, lifeless body; a perfect, circular bullet hole penetrating his forehead. His eyes were wide open in shock and, in the dimly lit room Jace could see his mangled, dismembered hand lying inches from his body.

/

"Jace. It's Izzy- well done; Alec's gone and called the police. Hope you're happy you attention whore."

"Okay, now I'm worried too- the police said something about a hostage situation at some downtown bank. Just pick up so that I know you're okay, alright?"

"Jace you ass. Tell me you didn't go to the bank, tell me you didn't or I swear to God."

"I love you Jacey. So damn much. Pick up the phone, I'm beg-"

"The voicemail box you are trying to reach is currently full. Please disconnect and try again. The voicemail box you are trying to reach is currently full. Please disconnect and try again. The voicemail box-"

Beeeeeeep.


	3. A Day in the Life of a Gunman

**A/N:** **Thanks so much to anyone that has left reviews or favourited, it means a lot and spurs me on. I'll try my best to update frequently as it is currently summer, so please keep reading! Read and review.**

Chapter 3: A Day in the Life of a Gunman.

"Finally!" Maia and Kaelie turned their heads to the source of the noise, spotting Eric standing with his head high, clutching a deposit box- two boxes.

"Took you long enough." Maia said sarcastically, and rolled her eyes. Kaelie on the other hand, looked mildly impressed.

"Why's there two boxes?" She asked, watching as he heaved them to the ground, spindly arms shaking.

"Well, they have the same source code on the base, see." He pointed out a small serial number, and continued. "That means that they both have one key that unlocks them, like a dual barrel lock, so when you unlock one you unlock the other. I though there might be something important if it was a joint box."

He slumped down cross legged on the ground and began to rifle through the boxes. Maia went over to help him, surprised that the computer game nerd had actually paid attention to how the bank worked during induction.

Kaelie stayed at her spot beside Jordan- she had cleaned away some of the blood and was trying to bind up his wound again; she couldn't remove the bullet, snd it was definitely still in there, so she had used the practically lethal grade moonshine to sanitise before covering him up again. He had been cussing like a sailor, but none of them knew how long they would be there, and the last thing he needed was an infection.

"Are you sure that shit is safe to use on me?" Jordan muttered, clenching his teeth.

"Yes. Now shut up and stop being a baby."

They sat silently, Bat dozing off with his head against the wall. Jordan had his head resting on his jacket of the floor, and Bat's legs were numb, like his head. He felt desensitised to the entire situation, and it was scary.

He could hear Maia and Eric talking quietly in the corner, and he could sense a body sit down next to him. He opened one eye to see Kaelie sat nest to him, and his best friend slumped on his other side, hopefully sleeping.

"Thank you." Bat muttered, looking into Kaelie's blue-green eyes. Over the years he had learned not to judge on appearances, and Kaelie's dim witted attitude at the start had obviously been a ruse.

"My pleasure." She replies softly, and she felt curiosity swell inside her.

"If you don't mind me asking." She started. "What's the deal with the two of you? All scars and tattoos, BFF's."

Bat chuckled slightly and looked to the ground.

"We've been best friends for… I don't know, nearly twenty years. We met when I was four, we were neighbours, and I've known him forever. " He stared wistfully at his friend. "He was there when I was being bullied for having a weird birth mark. And when I was twelve and some of the older kids on our street held me down and tried to burn it off, he was the one that got arrested for trying to burn their house down."

Kaelie gasped, but Bat just laughed.

"We were from a bad area. But we made it out alive- moved to the Big Apple, opened a bar. We were doing alright."

He blanched, his tan skin paling and the mark on his cheek standing out.

"We were doing alright."

Kaelie watched him carefully and reached out to take his hand, letting his large warm palm envelop her own small one.

"Like I said." She whispered. "I don't want to die here."

"Oh my God. Oh my God!" Maia was yelling, and Bat and Kaelie started, turning round to look.

Eric's eyes were bright and wide, and he and Maia were staring at each other in disbelief.

"Who the hell keeps this stuff in a freaking deposit box? I knew it would be big if it was a joint box, but this…"

"This is insane."

"Guys." Bat asked sleepily. "What is it?"

Maia and Eric gave each other last look before Eric raised his hand, pulling an object out of the box.

In his hands was a medium sized, almost completely bejewelled, golden cup. A cup that looked expensive.

A cup that Bat recognised.

"The Mortal Cup." He breathed. "What in the hell."

Maia was staring at it, and all of them were shocked. Why was something so valuable in a deposit box in New York? It looked like it belonged in a museum.

"You know what this is?" Eric asked.

"Yeah." Bat replied, eyes still fixed to the cup. "When I was a kid there was a robbery from a museum near where I lived. It was a cup- that cup. I think it's some kind of legendary European artefact, something religious, I'm not sure. I do know for a fact it shouldn't be here. What else was in the boxes?"

Eric shuffled some papers and pulled out two glocks.

"Holy shit." Kaelie said, springing to her feet to look. "I don't know whose box this is, but they saved our asses." She clicked he safety out of one of the guns.

"They're both full." Maia said, with her head buried in the papers.

"We reckoned the next time someone comes we can get out, go and find Clary and Jace." Eric said, and Bat cringed. He had pushed the other two from his mind, not wanting to think of what was happening; now Bat had a knife, and they had two fully loaded guns, things were looking up.

"If they ever open the door." Said Kaelie, and she walked back to Jordan and took a seat.

"Oh, they will." Said Maia, and she pulled out the purse sized black backpack that had held the Cup and began filling it with the remaining jewellery, the Cup and the papers.

"What makes you so sure Maia? And what are you doing?" Kaelie enquired.

"I'm getting ready- we have something they want. I think I've figured out why this robbery is taking so long, why they wanted Clary." She pulled one of the papers out of the bag and handed it to Kaelie.

"Take a look at the name on those birth records."

/

"I don't know where else to look." Said Sebastian to Valentine, holding back the edge in his voice. "It isn't here; we checked every single high security vault inn this place; the Cup isn't anywhere, nor are Clarissa's records. What is we're in the wrong place?"

Valentine looked up sharply and gave his apprentice an appraising look.

"It's here. And there are still places we haven't looked."

/

Clary thought that she might be sick again. How could this be happening; this couldn't be real. There was no way she had actually just walked in on a dead body, dumped like trash beneath the stairwell.

"Oh God, please." She sobbed into Jace's chest. He was standing hard and stiff, his strong arms clutching her, revealing his true shock. This couldn't be real.

"This is my fault." She whispered.

And like that, Jace unfroze. Hugging her tighter before pushing her away to look at her face, scanning her eyes.

"This isn't your fault Clary. I don't know what would make you say that, but none of this is your fault, none of it is our fault." He was in shock, he could feel himself shaking, but Clary was practically being torn apart by guilt.

She pulled herself away.

"No, no you don't get it. You don't want to touch me."

She pushed past him trying to get as far away as possible from the door, tugging at her hair. Jace followed, reaching out again but Clary just shook him off again.

"What do you mean? What do you mean I won't want to touch you?"

Clary turned to face him, tears streaming down her face in rivers of gleaming water. She looked to the ceiling.

"It's my father." Clary said, not wanting to watch. "My father is currently keeping us hostage. He wants something from the bank, and he wants me, and in order to get me he killed a man and shot one of us and… my father is a criminal, and he did all of this to get me. If I just went with him, if I just gave myself up maybe we'd be okay…"

Jace just stood still, watching her. Then he pulled her into him again, not letting her go.

"My dad, my biological father, he killed my mother when I was ten." Clary gasped and looked up at him. "He was a bad guy, and he ruined my life- and I'm sure you get what I mean by that." He stroked her face, trying anything to calm her erratic breathing. He wasn't used to this. "What our parents do, it doesn't define us. It doesn't make us evil. I blamed myself for years, for not stopping my father- but it wasn't my fault. Just like it isn't yours."

"He wants to blow the place up Jace, with us inside. All he needs is what he's looking for, then we are gonna be dead."

Clary looked at him with watery eyes.

"I'm gonna fix this."

Jace looked confused.

"I'm gonna get us out of this." She said decisively, pulling away and going back to the desk at the door. Jace nodded.

"I'll do my best to help."

/

Alec Lightwood used to be in love with his brother. Not in a weird way, and it was his adoptive brother, but Alec Lightwood had been in love with Jace Lightwood since he was thirteen and had realised he was gay. When he was fifteen, Jace had figured it out. He wasn't mad, he wasn't grossed out, he was kind and wise and told Alec that he loved him too, just not in the same way. And Alec had understood. Five years later Jace had introduced his brother to the love of his life, Magnus Bane, and they had been together ever since.

Alec had never thanked Jace.

"Izzy." Alec said groggily; the two of them had been sat with their mother on the couch, waiting for another phone call from the police. Their youngest brother was in bed, all of the other guests had left and their mother was asleep on the opposite couch.

"What." She replied sleepily. She hadn't cried yet; Isabelle barely cried, and she was saving it.

"I never thanked Jace. For introducing me to Magnus."

"So?" She replied.

"What if I never do."

Isabelle reached out for her brother, wrapping her long arms around him.

"Don't say that, Alec. It's all gonna be fine. Jace is gonna be fine. And if he's not, I'll kick his ass."

Alec laughed through the tears burning his eyes, and fell asleep in the darkness in the arms of his sister.

/

"What are you looking for?" Jace asked as Clary continued to rummage through the desk. Every time she shut a drawer the desk would shake, rattling the door and it was setting Jace on edge.

"Anything sharp, or hard. Anything weapon like really." She shook another drawer and Jace jumped in to stop her.

"Okay, calm down. They'll hear us. Look, we have that flick knife, right? We just need one more thing, maybe some scissors."

She looked up at him dazedly.

"Yeah, yeah okay. But I've looked in every drawer and I can't find anything."

Jace moved forward and began rifling though a drawer, running his hand across the hard back of the drawer. He pulled back to start on another drawer, jolting a locked one, only to let out a yell of surprise when the door started to rattle. He heard a yell, and he and Clary jumped back as the door started shaking and banging, someone pounding their fists. Then they heard a familiar voice, and Clary tightened her grip on the flick knife.

/

"This is… this is Clary's birth certificate?" Kaelie said, and Bat ripped it from her hands.

"What does this mean?" Bat asked, looking at the document. "Are you saying she's involved?"

"No." Maia said, strapping the bag to her back tightly. She needed to keep the contents safe. "It means, I'm pretty sure the name on the bottom of the paper is the person responsible for this robbery."

"Valentine Morgenstern." Bat said.

"Shit."

Everyone jumped at the voice, and they turned to see Jordan sitting upright, face looking pale and drawn.

"As in, the murderer?" Jordan said, making a move to stand up.

"Jordan, you need to rest." Kaelie said, reaching out for him. Instead of allowing her to push him down, Jordan just grabbed her hand and pulled himself up.

"Whatever, you guys woke me ages ago. If you have some fancy, heist jewellery crap, as well as those papers, I'm pretty sure someone is gonna come looking for them soon. So I need to get up, and we need to get ready."

Maia nodded, and turned to kick another box.

"We have two guns and a knife." Eric said. He held out the gun to Jordan, and he too it. Kaelie had the other one and Eric reached out for it, but Kaelie pulled it back.

"Wow there, how much gun training have you had? Cos my Dad taught me when I was sixteen."

Eric looked deflated, but nodded and went to help Maia.

"Sexist." She muttered.

It took a while for them to get another box out, and when they did all they found were photo frames and money,

"We're running out of time." Jordan said. "Just use that." His face was still paler, and Kaelie was pretty sure he was on the verge of passing out, but he just reached for a frame and cracked it against the ground. He shoved the gun- stupidly- into the waistband of his jeans and ripped a piece of fabric from his jacket, wrapping the fabric round some glass and handing it to Eric.

"Careful dude." He said, and Eric just gulped.

Maia shoved the remaining boxes back into the wall; Bat now had the knife, both Kaelie and Jordan had guns. Eric had a shank made of glass and Maia just picked up the abandoned bottle of moonshine. It was pretty hefty, and she trusted that she would get one hard blow out of it before it shattered. That was the best they were gonna get, and when the heavy chamber of the vault door finally let out a thump, they were standing on either side of the door, gripping their make shift weapons as though their life depended on it.

"There are two other rooms on this side of the lobby. One is a store cupboard- that's

first on the left. The other is Hodge's office, and it has a fire door with a stairway to the roof- head for that room, its second on the right, kay?" Maia said softly. "The only other rooms are full of deposit boxes. Second on the right- if it's locked, Jordan go first and shoot off the lock."

Jordan nodded and Maia closed her eyes. The barrel in the door dropped again- they had a plan, they knew what to do.

"Shit. Shitting shit." Eric was cussing to himself, clutching the glass as though it would kill him if he let go. Which, being honest, it might.

Kaelie prepped their guns, pulling their hands together in a defiant pose.

"There can't be more than five." Said Kaelie. "And theirs five of us. One each, yeah?"

They murmured a response, and then the door burst open.

It was like the pin of a grenade had been let out, and time had stopped at the same time. Three figures came charging in, guns raised and immediately Maia stepped forward, gripping the skinniest one around the neck. There was a feminine screech and Maia kicked the person's knees, pulling them down beneath her. She could hear chaos behind her, but this one was hers. She struggled as the person beneath her began to reach for the gun they had dropped, but she smacked her head against their forehead. They collapsed beneath her, charcoal lined eyes the only thing visible through her mask as Maia smashed the bottle on the woman's head.

"Son of a bitch." She muttered.

It was a woman.

Anger surged in her, and Maia rose up to help Eric. He was being held by the neck by Meliorn, his glass and Meliorn's gun nowhere in sight. She still had a grip on the broken neck of the bottle, so she took it and shoved it into Meliorn's neck, ignoring his cry of anger and the blood that spurted onto her face. She watched as Eric kneed him where it hurt, and the two of them burst off running.

She heard another gunshot, followed by two more. The third man had punched Jordan in the gut, and Jordan was about to go down as Bat pulled him out of the way and stabbed him somewhere, not looking back. They were all out of the room now, running down the hallway like maniacs. It was dark, dimly lit, and Eric and Kaelie were both limping.

"Hurry! We're nearly there." Maia said. She reached the door third after Bat and Jordan, and they were frantically banging on the door. Jordan shot at the lock twice, Maia standing back as it happened, and she could hear the others behind her.

Then a searing pain shot through her leg, and she went down like a rock.

/

Bang. Crack.

"Jace. What the hell are we gonna do."

The door was rattling like crazy, and Jace strained to here.

There were multiple voices, and he recognised them. Then they both heard the voices of their fellow captives.

"Maia!" "Everyone get back!"

"Oh God." Jace sprung into action, throwing the chair off the desk and preparing to move it. "Quick, help."

He was crazy, Clary thought.

"Jace, what the hell are you doing! Are you crazy!" He stared right at her, molten eyes burning.

"It's the others! They're out, I just heard Jordan. Help me move this."

Clary shoved the knife into her pocket and moved to help Jace, yelling out to them as she finally recognised Maia's voice cussing.

"Guys it's us! It's Clary."

On the other side of the door Bat was holding up Maia as she swore into his ear, her hot breath coming out shortly.

"That was Clary. Shoot the door again." She wheezed, and Kaelie finally came running up, shooting at the door. There were voices coming up the hallway and the five of them were huffing desperately.

Finally Jace and Clary managed to move the desk and they moved out the way quickly as the door came smashing open; Jordan had shoved his shoulder into it desperately, most likely cracking it in the process. Clary and Jace watched in shock as the five of them filtered into the room, and as they heard the yells of their captors through the crack in the door, Jace, Clary and Kaelie all moved forward to slam the door and push the desk in front.

"That should hold it." Maia wheezed. Suck it up, Roberts, she thought to herself as the others looked to her. The door rattled, and they sprang into action.

"Up those stairs." Jace coughed out. "Just don't look under them."

The other's looked at him confused, but Clary just pushed past and held the door open.

"Hodge is dead and those men are planning to blow up the place the second that they are done; lets move, I'm pretty sure that there is a door up there."

Kaelie held back a sob, and everyone just looked shocked. Maia had been shot in the leg, and it was bleeding badly. Jordan's wound had opened up again, and Kaelie was pretty sure there was a shard of glass in Eric's hair. But instead of focussing on that, the mismatched group of hostages rushed to the stairs.

Clary leant forward to grip onto Kaelie who was hobbling badly; Jace dragged Jordan and followed Eric who was leading ahead carrying Jordan's gun. None of them questioned it; they just followed as quickly as they could. They had made it up three flights of stairs when they head a blow beneath them, and Jace yelled out to Maia, heart beating wildly.

"How much further?" He shouted as the metallic staircase began to shake, and they all heard the yelling.

"Two flights." Maia moaned, but kept moving. "Go, Eric."

Eric sprinted up the stairs two at the time, reaching the top just in time to throw the door open before a man standing outside dragged him out by the neck.

He knew it was the guy with the black eyes, he could tell, and he began to wildly shoot out as he was spun onto the fire escape.

"Bitch!" He heard a yell.

He was tossed over by the man, and found himself without his gun, his neck pressed against the cold railing.

"You should've stayed where you were, dude. This is gonna be way worse."

Eric's vision was darkening, fuzzy at the edges, but just as Sebastian was about to crush his trachea the others burst onto the landing.

Jace dropped Jordan to lean against the wall and slammed a fist into Sebastian's face, watching in satisfaction as he passed out cold.

"That was for Clary, asshole."

And with that the rest of the hostages hurried down the stairs, the less injured helping everyone move forward. There was yelling behind them, and they were in an alleyway beside the bank, but none of it mattered any more because the cops were there, tons of them, and they were free.

A few at a time the hostages reached the cops, being pulled into safety. Jordan was first, and they began saying something but the noise was too much.

Kaelie dragged Eric out of the alley with her toward the cops and they were home free, followed by Maia and Bat; Jace was gripping Clary's hand as they ran, Clary slower than she would have liked due to the burning in her abdomen, but there were cops coming toward them now. Jace could've sung, or screamed, or burst into tears.

They were going to be fine.

And then, like smoke, Valentine Morgenstern stepped out into the alley.

And he raised the gun he has used to kill Hodge Starkweather.

And he pointed it straight at his daughter.

Bang, bang.


	4. Introductions

A/N: I'm thinking of keeping this story going with an ongoing plot, so in reality the past few chapters are just the beginning. Let me know what you think, and thank you so much for all the love and responses!

Chapter 4: Introductions.

When Clary was thirteen, her father had gotten drunk, gotten angry and pushed her down the stairs of their desolate home. He had watched as his daughter fell heavily down a flight of stairs, crying out the whole way, then he had left her lying there.

The next morning she woke up in the worst pain she had ever been in; her mother finally arrived home from her night shift at a diner to discover her daughter screaming in pain, her husband passed out drunk, and her son nowhere in sight. After calling an ambulance and waiting two hours in a waiting room, Clary's mother had been informed that her daughter had fractured three ribs and punctured her lung; although Jocelyn Morgenstern knew the cause, when the doctors asked if she had any idea how it happened, she had lied. Clary on the other hand was stuck in a white, papery hospital gown, and had never been in so much pain in her entire life- she had never felt her own body ripping itself apart from the inside, and she had never felt so betrayed by her father.

That is, until she found herself in an alleyway eight years later, lying alone on the ground after her own father shot her in the chest.

It was like she couldn't breathe, couldn't see, couldn't think; the sky above her was smooth and blue, birds gliding around like paint in water, but it didn't seem real. It was disorientating, and now her head was burning; she tried to suck in a breath, only to feel something hot and acrid and sour fill her mouth.

She coughed it out, zoning out the shouting in her ear. It was distracting.

There was something warm underneath her, grabbing at her, holding her; she liked it, but at the same time it felt frantic and rushed- it felt desperate.

Was it morning?

She couldn't remember. Her limbs were feeling heavier, like cement blocks were attached to her, pulling her down and she couldn't move even though she wanted to. Clary wanted to move, wanted to rub her chest to ease the pain that was growing and growing like a blossom in the sun, and she wanted to wake up from the strange daze that she was enveloped in.

Was this death? She had been close so many times before: she'd been in pain, but this felt real. The sky was gone, replaced with something bright and sharp and she let her eyes close; it felt less sharp, almost nice.

This was it. And maybe, just a small maybe, she was okay with it. Like the moment when you accept your fate and let it wash over you; there's nothing to stop it, so you let it carry you away. So Clary did- she let it carry her away.

/

Time ticked by hellishly; Jace turned just in time to see Valentine fire his gun, mask gone and his face pulled into a taut mask of anger. He got a few, perfect shots in before he was shot down himself, but Jace didn't care; Clary had been hit. He felt the moment the bullet entered her, his grip on her hand meaning that he felt the moment her heart skipped a beat. He only just managed to pull her into his chest before she dropped- and he went down with her.

"Clary!" He yelled, clutching her desperately. This couldn't be real- she couldn't have escaped her own father so many times just to be shot down on the edge of her final escape. It wasn't fair. He could feel her heart beating rapidly as his hands clutched at her back, something warm and wet seeping over them both.

He stared down at her bright green eyes; they were wide and bright, darting across the sky, the blueish grey reflecting back in her pupils. Her lips were moving, soft words that he couldn't hear. Her eyebrows furrowed in frustration; and then a gush of scarlet blood came flooding from her open lips. He held her tighter.

"No no no, Clary! Please…" He trailed off, looking desperately around for help that seemed too slow- too far away.

Kaelie was screaming now, being held back by a police officer. She was safe; she had crossed the finish line only to watch one of her own go down feet away from safety.

"Let me go! Let me go right now, I need to get to her, please!"

Her shoulder was burning and so was her leg, and she looked down to see blood running smoothly down her skirt clad thigh, the tear in her skirt from earlier as wide as a fist. But she didn't care.

"Ma'am, you need to step into the ambulance, there are people waiting."

She could hear Maia yelling now too; Bat and Jordan had already been shut into ambulances, and Eric was passed out on the ground somewhere.

"Clary! Clary you get up right now- get off me you son of a bitch."

Kaelie watched as Maia tried to pull away from a cop, failing miserably and falling on her dead leg, screaming out. They were both being dragged away now, toward ambulances and police questioning. It wasn't fair; after everything that they had read about Clary in that room, after everything they had just been through they couldn't take her away now. Where were they hours ago, when Kaelie was wrist deep in Jordan's blood? Where were they when they were trapped in that god forsaken room?

Thinking of the room, she wondered how long she had been in there. She hadn't slept, at least she thought she hadn't, but she was there for a long time.

And just like that her energy dropped. She succumbed to the officer pulling at her, allowing herself to be locked into the ambulance and driven away.

Maia was gone as well, and Jace was alone with Clary.

"Don't do this now." He muttered into her hair, letting the warms waves of crimson envelop him.

"You're so brave Clary. Don't let him win, not this time."

"You're the only one that knows how it feels."

"Don't leave me."

But too soon Clary was being pulled away from him, her eyes still wide open and searching.

"Don't! Get off, let me go with her!" He was shouting at cops now, and he knew that it wasn't fair on them, but he couldn't let her go.

"I'm sorry sir; you need to come with us." It was a paramedic, and Jace stopped struggling against the cop that was holding him. His face hurt, his head hurt, his body was exhausted, so he let himself get shut into an ambulance and he let them give him the good drugs that numbed the pain and finally allowed him a moment of peace…

/

Jocelyn Fray couldn't sit still, not for a moment. The second her daughter didn't call her that afternoon she knew that something was wrong and she was immediately transported back to the years of hell that her family had been through; nothing could calm her, not even her son arriving home to tell her to keep calm.

She stayed up all night pacing her bedroom, allowing all the frantic thoughts to play out dangerously in her head, scenario after scenario driving her to the point where she was about to climb into her car and drive out to find her daughter.

But she knew that that wasn't a good idea; the thing that Clary loved most about the city she lived in was the freedom, the privacy. And it was the least Jocelyn could do to give her that after all the years she had failed as a mother.

So she had climbed into bed and waited for the nightmares to come.

It wasn't until the next afternoon while she was sitting, talking with her son that she got the call. Jonathon picked it up.

"Fray Household." He said carefully, fingering the car keys in his pocket already, and he tried his best to keep his voice steady and even so as not to scare his mother- despite the fact that he was hearing the worst news of his life.

"I see." He responded to the caller on the other line, his mother frantically chewing her lip and staring at him with the brilliant green eyes that they shared.

"We'll be there right away." And with that he dropped the phone and moved into action.

"Mom, you've got to stay calm, okay? For Clary." His mother just wrung her hands.

"Tell me what it is, Jonathon. Where is she." Jon took a deep breath and ran a sweaty hand through his hair.

"She was shot. They won't disclose anything else over the phone, so we have to get to the hospital right away- do you think you can pack a bag while I start the car?" How was he being so calm? Jocelyn nodded at him, and the pair moved on.

Less than ten minutes later they were on the road, settling into an agitated forty minute long drive to the hospital. Neither one of them talked, but they were both silently praying that their Clary would be okay.

/

Jace awoke slowly, dragging himself from the deep sleep that he didn't know he needed gradually and painfully. He could tell that the lights were on through the hot, red film on his eyelids, and he could sense someone else in the room with him.

Finally letting the slow, even hum of his heart monitor coax him from his sleep he opened an eye and lifted his arm to shield them from the sharp brightness.

"You're awake." Came a soft voice, and he blinked away the sleep to turn his head and look into the surreal, blueish green eyes of Kaelie.

"Hey." He said carefully. He couldn't remember much, in fact he wasn't even sure where he was for a moment; and then it hit him.

"Oh god." He groaned, and sat himself up, ignoring the pounding in his head. There was a clean papery gown cloaking him, and he could feel a bandage around his chest.

"Yeah." Kaelie replied. Jace finally looked at her properly, and she too was clad in a white gown. She had a piece of white tape on her lip and her calf down was swathed in a matte cast. She saw him watching.

"What happened? After we left the room?" Jace enquired, sitting up. Kaelie shuddered slightly but started to tell him.

"Not much really. We knew they would come back- it took them a while though. We managed to find some guns in one of the boxes; a knife, some glass. We fought our way out." She looked down at her leg. "Well, we tried to. Turns out I was running around on a broken ankle; I didn't even realise I had fallen that hard. We found some papers, some things we figured they wanted, so we knew we were gonna have to fight to get out and find you." Kaelie looked back at him, eyes searching his. He felt guilty for judging her before, thinking she was attention seeking. "What about you?" Jace heard her ask. "The big one- with the blue eyes. He knocked you over the head and carried you out. Where were the two of you?"

Jace leaned back against the stiff pillow, gathering his thoughts. If he was being honest, none of it seemed real.

"I think I was out of it for quite a while." He said carefully, remembering waking up in that room. "I tried to stop them taking her, taking Clary, but I just ended up getting locked in this office. God, I was tied up and my head hurt like a bitch; there was something on my mouth too." Kaelie watched silently as he continued to explain what had happened, and shuffled closer to show him the bandage on his wrist when he mentioned scratching at the plastic.

According to the clock above him, an hour passed as they continued to explain to each other what had happened during their time apart, but he was plagued by thoughts of his family.

And Clary.

"Do you know what happened to Clary?" Jace asked finally, and Kaelie looked down at her lap.

"They won't let me into the ICU. That's where she is, I think." Jace raised his brows in a questioning look.

"I'm a nurse. I work here: they wouldn't let me in to see Maia either yet, but I managed to make them let me in to see you. They won't tell me anything about her condition, and they're holding our families back for questioning."

Jace deflated. ICU- Intensive Care Unit. That couldn't be good.

Then he thought of Isabelle and Alec and Max; his family and they weren't even allowed in.

"I'm scared, Jace." Kaelie came out with after a moment of silence. "We were in there for over a day, and I didn't even realise it." Jace was shocked- it had been more than a day? It felt like a few hours. "I can't sleep here; they want to give me drugs but I'm scared of what's gonna happen while I'm asleep."

Jace looked at her again, and for the first time he saw the wild look behind her eyes; it's no wonder that she was scared after that- how did they end up here. He took her hand, hoping it would give some comfort; he wasn't used to comforting girls.

And just as he was about to speak up with some lame words of comfort Maia burst in. She pushed the door open, yelling at someone behind it, and then dragged herself into the room of a pair of heavy set crutches.

"There you are!" She said calmly, despite her rather battered demeanour. "They said I couldn't leave my room and couldn't have any visitors, but then they started sending a load of cops in so I left."

Her entire right leg was clad in what looked like an extraordinarily heavy cast all the way up to her thigh, and she sat down on the foot of Jace's bed due to the lack of chairs. Her brown hair was tied back, scruffy and unwashed, and turned golden under the fluorescent lights.

Jace just couldn't stop staring at her leg.

"Gunshot wound to the knee. Shattered some bones, bit of a torn ligament but I'll survive; at least they didn't saw it off. I only woke up a few hours ago; apparently we've been here nearly a day- no one will tell me what's going on."

Jace allowed himself a moment of shock before setting his face into a cold mask; something was happening, and they weren't allowed to know. Kaelie had taken back her hand and was rubbing her head now, obviously nursing a headache.

"What did we do to deserve this, hey?" She said jokingly before slumping back into her chair. "Any news on the others?" She asked Maia.

"Jordan is still in surgery, so is Eric. I never even noticed but that idiot had a shard of glass in his stomach after we got out, and Jordan was shot."

"Whoa." Jace input. "When was Jordan shot?"

"When we were fighting as you got dragged off. Not sure who did it, not that it matters." Kaelie muttered, fingertips massaging her head.

"I'm not sure where Bat is: I think the police are questioning him."

It was at this point that Jace realised that they were in a private wing of the hospital; he recognised the name of the ward on the door. The conversation between them was too light-hearted, laced with tension; everyone knew something was wrong, it's just no one wanted to talk about it, and it was making the uneasy feeling in his stomach grow.

"I'm not sure what to tell the police." Maia started, and Jace looked confused. Maia began to explain about what she found in the joint box, her voice tense with stress.

"We found some papers in one of the boxes in that room- papers about Clary. They were birth certificates, two of them and... Well, the fathers name-"

"Clary's dad is Valentine Morgenstern." Kaelie interjected, looking to Jace to see if he recognised the name. He did; he knew her father was a criminal, she had told him herself, and he tried to keep a straight face, failing miserably.

"What are you saying, Maia?" Jace asked slowly.

"I'm saying- what if Clary was involved?" Her eyes were burning hazel, and Maia didn't really believe it, but she had to say it out loud, just once.

Jace was shocked.

"Guys." He began slowly. "Besides the fact that Clary had already told me how much she hated her father, and that she only found out when her father confronted her in the bank that he was involved, you're forgetting one thing: Clary is currently God knows where with three bullets in her chest because of him. Does that seem like something he would do if they were together? Do you think she would have helped us escape? We are the only ones that were there, we have to stick together."

Maia looked mildly ashamed but stuck up her chin, nodding.

"Jace is right." Kaelie said. "Of course she isn't part of it- I'm worried as hell about her and the others."

"I know- look I'm sorry I said it, it's just... I need to wrap my head around this, around why it happened. I'm going crazy." Kaelie nodded at Maia.

"Me too." She replied, and Maia raised a brow.

"Glad we're in the same boat, Princess."

Jace looked on at the pair; there wasn't an easy way to get through this, and Jace had had to get through his fair share of trauma, but this was unreal. He still felt trapped, locked up alone in a room waiting to find out if the others were okay.

"Why can't we see our family?" He asked to no one in particular, and Kaelie and Maia shared a look.

"I don't know." Maia said, looking down at her hands. "All I know is that when I woke up, the nurses told me I couldn't have any visitors; five minutes later two cops walk in. That's when I left and came looking for you. Took me an hour to find you; this is a nearly totally empty private room."

Just as she finished speaking the ever slamming door burst open, and this time Bat came in, closing the door hard and slumping down in front of it, blocking the door with his body.

"Hey guys." He croaked, his face gaunt and eyes wide. "I have news…"

/

"Let me see my daughter right now." Jocelyn Fray had to practically be held back by her son as she confronted a surly, middle aged police officer that stood steadfast in the way.

"We have a waiting room for the family- if you'll follow me?" The man was sure and monotone and Jonathon knew that if they stayed there any longer there would be a fistfight between his mom and a cop, so he took her arm and dragged her along beside the officer.

They were being led down a white corridor, Jocelyn gripping tightly to her son.

"I can't take another loss, Jon. I don't care what the police want; I need to see her." Her voice was quaking and he could hear the desperation in his tone. But he knew the reputation the family had, he knew they had to keep their heads down and follow the rules; for Clary if not for anyone else.

"I know Mom." He said softly into her ear. "I need her to be okay too."

Finally they had reached a door, and the nondescript officer opened the door to a room of people, gesturing them in before closing the door behind them.

The sound startled the group in the room, and they all turned to look at the pair. A man with startlingly blue eyes and jet black hair stepped forward, looking between the pair.

"Are you here with news?" He asked, and Jon could sense the desperation in his tone. When the blue eyed man saw their confusion he deflated, returning back to a group of three people that were sitting on plush chairs in the corner.

"I'm sorry." Jon started, holding onto his mother's hand. "We're here for my sister… we got a call…" He trailed off, and a tall woman with brown hair and the same blue eyes rose up.

"Not you too." She said softly. She saw the expression on Jocelyn's face and gestured for her to sit. "I'm Maryse Lightwood; these are my children, and a friend." She pointed at the two sitting in the corner, two men and a woman. "My son… he was in the bank."

Jocelyn covered her face with her hands as she sat; the room was lined with chairs around the outside and an ancient coffee machine sat untouched in the centre; the room had bad news written all over it. Opposite to where Jocelyn and Jon were sitting was a girl, looking to be about Clary's age, and he eyes were closed. She had asian features with high cheekbones and sleek black hair, and her head was resting against the wall.

"What's happening? I don't understand- why can't I see my daughter?" Jocelyn asked quietly. This was the last place in the world she wanted to be.

"There's a police investigation. Apparently family causes some kind of conflict of interest." Maryse said carefully. "They won't tell us anything- all I know is I haven't seen or heard from my son in two days, and now he's in the hospital. There was a… situation at a bank in town. A robbery. A violent one, apparently."

Jocelyn bit back a sob, holding herself together for her son- for her daughter.

"So, none of you have seen your family?" She asked the room, and Maryse shook her head sombrely.

"My Mom works here." Came a voice, and they all flicked their eyes over to the girl sitting alone on the other side, her glossy hair messed up and her eyes open to reveal attractive, slanted, but slightly dull eyes. "I'm Aline; Aline Penhallow- my Mom's a surgeon here, Jia Penhallow. My girlfriend was in the bank." She looked down at her hands and her tone of voice showed her distress. "I thought maybe my Mom could tell me what was going on, but even she doesn't know. This case is serious."

They all watched her as she spoke, and the tension in the room was palpable.

"It shouldn't be too long a wait now." This came from the mouth of a man beside Maryse's son. "Let's just, stay calm."

The daughter shot him a withering look.

"Calm, Magnus? How the hell are we supposed to stay calm? I'm pretty sure this is the worst day of my life and no one will tell me what's going on, and I don't even know if my brother is okay." Her brother held up a hand.

"Isabelle-" She cut him off.

"Don't 'Isabelle' me, Alec. You know how I feel right now; you're more worried than I am."

He opened his mouth to retort, as did Magnus, however they were both interrupted by the appearance of two men walking into the room, both wearing sharp suits.

"Sorry for the wait, everyone." The first one said; he was middle aged with salt and pepper hair that showed the remaining brown roots, and Jocelyn recognised his intelligent blue eyes immediately. Luke. She kept her mouth shut as he continued talking, waiting to see if he recognised her, but he didn't look over.

"I'm Detective Graymark, this is my partner Detective Wayland." The man with brown hair and light eyes smiled tightly. "We've been assigned to the case concerning the bank robbery- I'm not sure if you have been informed yet, but we'll need to talk to the families separately to inform you on the situation, then you will be allowed to see your families."

There was a collective sigh of relief among them, but Jocelyn was strung up tight.

"Please." She said, ignoring the look of recognition that flooded Luke's face as she spoke. "Is there nothing that you can tell us?" They all waited with baited breath as the detectives digested this, and Jocelyn gripped tightly to her son's hand.

"The basics are… there was a hostage situation, you will be informed separately, as we have stated." Detective Wayland began. "Valentine Morgenstern, a wanted criminal if you weren't aware, was behind it."

Jocelyn felt her face bleach white, and her son's hand dropped from her own. He couldn't breathe.

"Three of his companions were caught, however due to… a miscommunication on our part, Morgenstern and one other escaped custody. He's injured, and we are confident we shall intercept him and his companion soon, however we had to keep you and your families out of reach for the moment, which is why you weren't allowed in until now."

Magnus, who was holding Alec around the shoulders tightly, spoke up as he finished.

"So detectives have been assigned because he escaped?"

Graymark and Wayland shared a look, and Luke finished for his partner.

"Mostly, however due to the severity of the crime the investigation is automatically deemed a homicide."

Every face in the room turned to one another in shock. And that's when Jocelyn broke into sobs.

/

"Valentine escaped." Bat wheezed.

Jace's initial reaction was disbelief, and he looked around at the other shocked faces. It couldn't be right; he had seen Valentine go down…

Hadn't he?

"I saw him get shot." Maia said calmly, although beneath her expressionless mask her resolve was cracking. "I saw him go down; how do you know?" She directed her question at Bat, and he ran a hand through is dishevelled hair.

"I heard a cop talking outside my room- I swear, they're meant to be keeping it secret but they were blabbing about it for ten minutes." He looked exhausted- they all did.

"I can't take this anymore." Kaelie said. "Do you know when we can see our families, because I personally am gonna lose my mind-"

At that moment the door opened once again, and Jace seriously began to consider whether anyone had a sense of privacy. Bat pushed against the door with his back, blocking entry, and shared a look with Maia- a wild look.

"Who is it?" Maia yelled through the door, her hand reaching for a crutch. Jace felt a grip of fear tighten around his heart and waited for the reply.

"Uh, this is Jia- Doctor Penhallow. May I come in?" They all breathed a slight sigh of relief, all still on edge, but Kaelie rose excitedly from her seat at the name.

"Let her in, quick!" She said to Bat, and she stood with her wounded ankle hovering off the ground as a tall, slender woman in a doctor's coat stepped into the room.

"Kaelie?" She said questioningly, but relief coloured her tone. She quickly swept the girl up into a hug, muttering into her ear.

"When Aline told me you went to the bank…" She trailed off and pulled back, gesturing Kaelie back into her chair and taking a long look around the room.

"I see it's a party in here." Dr Penhallow said, amused. She had seen many cases of trauma in her time, and she was glad that they were still with each other instead of shutting down; she could tell by the fear in Maia's voice when she entered that they weren't healed. Not at all. She looked over to Jace, and he met his searching gaze; he wondered what this black haired woman's relation was to Kaelie- hopefully it made her trustworthy.

"Mr Lightwood-" She began.

"Jace." He said quickly, hiding the flush of his ears in his too long hair. Jia smiled.

"Jace. We have your labs back, and it looks as though everything is going to be fine. I can explain better when your family arrives." This piqued his interest.

"When are my family arriving?" He questioned, and everyone else listened in.

"Very soon. I was told by some of the nurses that there was an adamant crowd in your room, so I'm here to send you back to your rooms to wait. I believe they are just being briefed by the police."

Bat huffed and rose to his feet, giving a solitary wave before exiting. "I'm going to find out about Jordan." Was muttered before he left.

Maia rose as well, struggling with her crutches before setting off.

"Come find me when you can." She said to Kaelie and Jace, and then hobbled off down the hall. Kaelie followed, shooting a smile at both Jace and Dr Penhallow before leaving. Jia turned to leave, and Jace coughed to get her attention.

"Sorry." He said, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's just; do you know what happened to Clary? She was shot… we were running and… Is she here?" He asked again.

She smiled at him sadly.

"I'm sorry, I can't disclose patient information." She started, but backtracked when she saw the look on his face. "But… I can tell you that there is a woman with red hair here.." She said subtly. Jace braced himself. "And she is stable."

He let out a sigh of relief and thanked her, letting her walk away and sitting back ready for his family to arrive.

It was minutes before they came tumbling in; first his mother- his headstrong, lovely mother that only shed a few tears as she leaned in to kiss his cheek and hug him tightly, smelling of camomile and honey. His brother came next, followed by his boyfriend, and then his sister, Isabelle.

"Jace." She breathed when she saw him, and she pushed past Magnus to pull him into a tight squeeze. "You complete ass- don't you ever do that to me again, okay?"

He laughed into her hair as he stroked her back, craving the familiarity of his family. Izzy plonked herself beside him, letting her brother in to hug Jace. It was quick and firm, but Jace could sense the tension as he pulled away, so he looked directly into his brothers blue eyes.

"I'm fine." He said hastily, waving a hand up and down himself to reassure him. "I'm all here- I promise."

Alec nodded, moving to stand beside Magnus who was perched on the chair beside Maryse's.

"It's good to see you, biscuit." Magnus said- Jace smiled slightly at his best friend, not letting on how close to breaking he was. He leaned back in his bed, the weight of the past few days crushing him; Izzy noticed and did the only thing that she could think of- she launched into a detailed tale of her birthday party…

/

"Has she always been this pale Mom? I don't think she's meant to look like that..."

"Just sit down Jonathon- she's okay."

"Yeah but, I don't know, should I get a doctor to check? Because she looks pretty pale to me."

Clary listened intently to the exchange of voices beside her; her mind was transported back to the day she had punctured her lung, and she remembered her brother hysterically talking about milkshakes. He got unnerved in hospitals.

There was a slow, consistent beeping beside her and, although her entire body felt cold and aching, her left hand was warm and enclosed by something even warmer and softer. A clean, invasive smell pervaded her nose- a smell she immediately recognised as sanitizer, the foamy kind that was pumped out of dispensers on the wall, like clouds of sour soap. It made her uneasy; no more than the tension on her chest.

It felt like she had a concrete brick sat on her chest, hard and heavy and immovable; she tried to move and felt the pain shift, moving around her chest in spirals. Then she remembered.

She had been shot. The sky had been so bright, so clear. She was shaken from her thoughts by the same voice again.

"Okay, I definitely think I need to get a doctor now-"

"Jon, relax, please." Her Mom.

"No, Mom, I have to help, there's got to be something-"

"Milkshake." Clary muttered feebly. She tried to open her eyes, finding it impossible, and her voice sounded like sandpaper on wood. She felt a short silence before she continued. Jocelyn was holding her breath.

"The last time we were…" She swallowed sharply, trying to make her voice louder. "The last time we were in a hospital, you promised me a milkshake. You said you would buy me any flavour."

Finally her eyes fluttered open, and she ignored the sharpness of the light, turning her head to see her mothers comforting face nest to hers, their hands entwined. Her brothers pale face was hovering above their Mom's; he was standing up wringing his hands with his eyes wide.

"Clary…" He croaked. He leaned in to kiss her forehead, and she pretended not to feel and pain as he hugged her tight.

"Watch out, Jon." His mother warned, noticing her daughter's face. "No man handling."

"They said you might be under for weeks, Clary." He continued. "I'm so freaking glad you're okay."

She tried to smile, failing slightly, but her mother kissed her hand anyway.

"I'll get you a milkshake; ten if you want! Any flavour." Jon started, and Clary let him ramble on; at that moment all she was focused on was memorising her mother's face, remembering the soft lines and gentle freckles. She could have dies and never seen her face again.

She let the sound of her older brother's voice lull her back to sleep, the pain in her chest becoming uncomfortable. Clary fell into a better sleep, a more peaceful sleep, knowing that her mother was by her side, and that she was safe…

/

"They took the bait." Sebastian said carefully, watching in disgust as his boss pulled a bullet from his own toned chest, depositing the fragmented metal into a dish by his side with a clang.

"Good." Replies Valentine, teeth not even clenched despite that lack of anaesthesia. "Keep me updated, will you."

"Of course. I can't help but wonder where they think we are; what they think we're doing." Sebastian continued with a glint in his eye. Valentine sighed, pulling another bullet from his torso. The boy was useful, capable. But he was arrogant and had no sense of the big picture.

"They think." He began, letting another bullet drop into the dish. "That they won; that this is the end." He dropped the tweezers and wiped down his hands.

"In reality, this is just the beginning."


	5. Half Truths and White Lies

A/N: The plot thickens... Hope you enjoy this chapter! I'm working as hard as I can to get a few chapters out a week, as I know I won't post as frequently during the term time, however The Cursed Child arrived yesterday and I had to stop everything to read it. :)

Read and review, let me know what you think!

Chapter 5: Half Truths and White Lies

"Aline." Kaelie breathed a sigh of relief as her girlfriend walked through the door, crossing the small private room to envelop Kaelie in a warm hug, squeezing tight. Aline shut her eyes, feeling every shape that she could of the girl in her arms; she had had the scariest experience of her life, and she hadn't even been in that bank. She felt Kaelie begin to shake.

"I tried to pretend I was stupid." She began, stuttering out the words as she tried to hold back sobs. "I tried to pretend so that they wouldn't hurt me, so that I could come back to you, but I just had to help."

She broke down then, letting Aline stroke her blonde hair as she sobbed into her back.

"I was so scared. I'm still scared, Al. I'm… so…" She hiccupped and let the tears run steadily, and Aline rubbed her back steadily.

"Shh." She soothed, calming herself more than Kaelie. "It's all fine now, I've got you…"

/

Maia's room was quiet. She hadn't had any visitors- she didn't have any immediate family to miss her whilst she was gone- and she had settled into her bed with a tattered book that she had gotten off of one of the more motherly nurses.

She was sat reading said book, leg propped up on a brace, when a knock came at the door.

"Come in!" She yelled, not bothering to look. It would either be a nurse or a cop- they had one of both stationed at the end of the hall.

It turned out to be Luke. His jacket was folded over his arm, his demeanour far more relaxed, and he only walked a few feet into the room before stopping. She watched him carefully.

"Maia Roberts?" He asked questioningly, but Maia just raised her brows, and like that he snapped the cool look off of his face and allowed his features to rearrange into a relieved smile. He hurried forward to hug her, and she laughed at him as he settled heavily beside her in one of the grimy hospital chairs.

Maia had known Luke since she was fifteen and living on the streets of New York; he was only an officer back then, and he was the one that took her in after she was nearly arrested for being part of a fight club. He let the surly teenager abuse him with words, let her trash his kitchen, then he let her stay with him for two years after she opened up and told him her story. He wasn't like a father to her; she hated her father. He was more like an estranged uncle that let her spray paint her walls and bought her original copies of Fitzgerald books. He was one of her best friends, and eight years later he was still her only true family.

"I'm glad to see you, Maia." He said, watching her as she tried to shift her leg.

"Likewise." She grinned, but spent no time beating around the bush. "Now tell me everything."

He groaned at her, and she knew full well what he would say next.

"You know I can't Maia, it's-" She cut him off.

"Classified… Yeah, I know." She looked into Luke's apologetic face and sighed. "I'm just…I'm scared I guess, I can't wrap my head around what's happened."

Luke reached for her hand and gripped tight, holding her as if he were trying to keep her together.

"I can tell you you're safe though." He said quietly. "And I'll always be here, okay?" They smiled tightly, Maia holding back tears, and Luke reached forward to grab the book. "What's this trash you're reading anyway…?"

/

A week had passed since the incident. Jace was still in hospital under observation after he started throwing up on the first night; Izzy had been terrified, but the doctor's told them it was just concussion, but it appeared to be pretty severe.

Both Kaelie and Maia were still in the hospital, both trapped by the casts that weighed them down and the nurses stationed outside their doors; no one could stop them from visiting each other though. The second they were allowed to see Eric they did, settling into his room to find him upright and alert.

"I was shanked!" He had exclaimed with wild eyes, and the others simply laughed at him, waiting to explain.

They still weren't allowed to see Clary.

Bat had been discharged after four days with only minor injuries, but he was back at the hospital every day, spending every waking moment with the others, or with Jordan.

He still hadn't woken up after surgery.

"How's Jordan?" Jace asked as Bat walked in holding a greasy bag and coffee for everyone but Jace- the doctors had forbidden caffeine, and he looked on wistfully.

Around him were Kaelie, Maia, Eric and now Bat, all sitting on chairs that he had persuaded the nurses to get him; he had felt bad for the first time in his life manipulating someone with charm, but he shook off the feeling.

"He's doing alright- they say his 'vitals are good and stats are stable.' Whatever that means…" He looked to Kaelie and she nodded at him over a mouthful of donut. She swallowed.

"That's good- it means his body is working on its own. Hopefully he'll be awake soon- we can ask Jia when she comes in later."

They all nodded and continued to eat their greasy breakfast: they all agreed that anything was better than hospital food.

"Has anyone heard anything on Clary yet?" Maia asked carefully; in reality she knew that Jace had been badgering the doctors and cops alike since day one, but he hadn't been successful yet. She didn't know what had happened between them in that room, but something went down. He shook his head.

"No, all I know is that she was okay after surgery and that's it." He looked crestfallen.

"I think I saw her family." Bat interjected, sipping on hot black coffee. "Well- obviously not her father- but her Mom definitely. Same bright hair, same big eyes. And there was a really tall man with her… He had blonde hair; I couldn't get a good look at his face- maybe her boyfriend? Or brother?"

Maia shot him a sharp look, but he didn't notice. Jace just shrugged internally, ignoring the reality that the sudden flare of pain in his chest wasn't just from the bruises.

Eric looked up from his food; ever since he had woken up he had been quieter, and no one knew how to ask properly if he was okay. In all honesty, none of them were. She didn't mention it, but Kaelie could hear Maia waking herself up screaming every night whilst she herself abstained from sleep, and she could tell by the way he talked that Bat was worried about Jordan; he barely left the hospital.

It was at that point that Dr Penhallow walked in, slim stature sweeping into the room and taking in the scene. She smiled at them, pretending to ignore the powdered sugar that swept across their lips.

"Good morning, everyone. You'll be pleased to know that both Kaelie and Maia, you've been given permission for discharge tomorrow… Luke has done most of you're papers, Maia, and there's just a few things for you to sign off on Kaelie. And Eric- your brother has just arrived." Eric rose steadily to his feet and offered a hand to Kaelie who was unsteady on her crutches, and the two exited with a small wave.

"I'm going back to see Jordan." Bat started. "You coming?" He asked the two. Maia got up carefully, grabbing hold of her crutches, and Jace began to get up too when Dr Penhallow interrupted him.

"Just a moment, if I could have a word with you, Jace?" He raised an eyebrow but gestured for the others to leave; sitting back on the edge of the bed that he had been confined in for a week.

"You've been allowed discharge too, however- Clary…Clary is awake." Jace leaned in expectantly. "She has been for a while… and she's been asking for you." She started. Jace's heart leapt in his chest and he tried to control his breathing.

"Understandably, her mother was reluctant for visitors, however it appears that the patient is considerably… stubborn shall we say. You've been given permission to visit her- I thought it best for you to go now before visiting hours so that you don't miss your family." Jace nodded eagerly and stood up, following an amused looking Dr Penhallow out of the room and down the halls of the ward; he had only been out of his room to visit Maia and Jordan so far, and he kept a tight grip on the anxious feeling in his chest as he was lead down a long white corridor that he hadn't been down yet. They passed a small nurses station, and Jace could smell the cheap coffee.

He sniffed wistfully. They had finally made it to a smaller room at the end of the hall, and Jace could see a cop stationed some way down- he had become accustomed to their presence.

"This is it… You can knock, and I'll give you some privacy. I'll be back when your family arrives." She turned away, and Jace called after her.

"Thank you." He said sincerely, and with one last nod in his doctor's direction, he turned to stare at the white door in front of him. Taking a steadying breath, he reached out to grasp the cold handle, and turned it.

/

It had taken two days for Clary to properly awaken from her sleep after the incident with her brother and Mom. The second time she awoke she was just as confused, just as scared, but this time her family was missing. She had sat up slowly, hissing sharply as she felt a pang in her chest, and examined the room she was in.

It was similar to most other hospital rooms; she saw two doors, one the door to the room, and the other most likely a bathroom. On the plain white walls there was a distinctive lack of colour; the last time she had been in hospital, there had been bright and sparse abstract paintings. Maybe it was cleaner this way. There was also no window, and although the cold draft that filtered through the room was welcoming, Clary was glad; no matter how safe a hospital was, after seeing her father again she didn't think she would be okay with being that exposed to the outside world.

At this thought, the past few days came flooding back relentlessly. The bank. Her father. Black eyes, Kaelie crying, Jace's bloody wrists, Eric with glass in his hair, in his skin. Maia screaming. Clary screaming.

She shut her eyes tightly, blocking out the noises in her head. She breathed deeply, calming her thoughts, and at the same time she noticed an erratic beeping noise in the background begin to slow.

Her heart monitor. Smiling despite herself, she began to laugh, laughing hysterically- throwing her crazy hair back and letting the wracks of amusement roll over her.

It wasn't until two nurses and her mother came rushing in that she realised her laughs had turned to sobs, tears tracking frantically down her face as she breathed heavily through the pain. She had opened up a stitch in her chest and blood was seeping out now, but she didn't care- she reached out for her mother and allowed the familiar arms to wrap around her, gripping her tightly.

"He's back Mom." She moaned into her shoulder, her slim body trembling with every breath. "He found me again… he found us." Jocelyn just rubbed her back, holding her daughter tightly as her cries died down.

"I know, baby. Shh…sh now. I'm here, you're safe." She continued to rub circles into her daughters back, hiding the burning in her own eyes with a curtain of their intermingled hair.

After that day, Clary had done her best to hold it together. She couldn't sleep, she could barely eat, and she definitely couldn't talk about what had happened, but she allowed her family in to see her every day, putting on the best face she could to make them believe she was okay. They had spent years gluing their broken family back together; she couldn't tear it apart now.

But when they tried to make them tell her what had happened… that's when she asked for Jace.

"Jace?" Her mother had asked questioningly, pretending not to notice that her daughter hadn't answered any of her questions.

"Yes… Jace, and Kaelie and Maia…and Bat and Eric- and Jordan. I never asked, are they okay?" It was the most she had said since she had woken up, and her mother tried not to give her a stern look.

"I don't think it's the best idea to hear about that, Clary. Just focus on getting better." She tried to sound soothing, but Clary wasn't having it.

"Mom. Please, you must know. Just let me see them." Jocelyn had closed her eyes; she didn't know how to handle this, all she wanted was for her daughter to get better.

"Don't fight me on this, baby, please?" Clary had shrunk back into her bed at this, but for the next few days that was all she did. Fight her mother on it.

It took nearly a week, but finally her mother had caved in- mainly after Jonathon had told her that Clary was no longer a minor, and in reality could choose to take care of her own hospital stay. This had scared her mother into agreeing.

So there she was, over a week after the incident, sitting waiting in her room for Jace to arrive. When the nice doctor with sleek black hair had told her that he had been insistent on coming as soon as he could her heart jumped, and now she tried her best to smooth her appearance as best as she could; she knew it was futile due to the bruises and bandages and the oversized pyjamas she had asked for, but she still tried.

Finally she heard voices outside of her room- Dr Penhallow, and someone else. A knock came at the door, Jace's timid knock, and Clary tried her best not to sound frightened.

"Come in." She said as loudly as she could, pulling her sweater around her tightly in an attempt to hide herself some more.

And then there he was. Jace Lightwood; he was wearing sweatpants and a loose shirt, a bandage visible on his arm, and Clary took him in properly for the first time- she had been so distracted before that she hadn't really noticed anyone, and she pushed away every memory that she could of that day, and now she finally took in his tall stature, lean and tan. He looked pale, but his skin was still an inexplicable shade of gold, just like his shaggy hair and hard eyes.

And he was barefoot.

Jace wiggled his toes, amused, and Clary realised she had been staring for a while and flushed red. Jace rubbed the back of his neck, slightly embarrassed, but for the first time in days he felt… normal.

"Sorry, I kind of… forgot shoes." He said, and Clary just blushed more. She gestured for him to sit on the chair at the edge of her bed, the one her mother had been occupying for the past few days, and he sat carefully, watching her.

Her hair was much redder than he remembered. Maybe it was the white walls, or the bright light, but it was like… a dancing flame, or a glistening gala apple, different shades of sunset entwined together. He stopped his mental tangent and felt his ears heat up- he was going soft.

Her eyes watched him imploringly, examining his face much the same as he was doing; she had a split lip, lines of red cutting through her soft mouth, pale face soft and heart shaped. He was all sharp angles, hard edges. She was all brushstrokes and curves. But looking into his eyes, Clary saw a flash of herself. She saw her own fear, her own terror.

She saw the birds that flit across the morning sky like smoke in water.

"I was shot." She said quietly, not looking away. He nodded, and cleared his throat.

"Yeah… yeah, you were." She tilted her head.

"I…I don't remember… You were there?" Jace closed his eyes, images of Clary falling, blood blooming on her chest.

"God. Yeah, I was there. I tried to stay with you." A soft hand reached out to touch his, and Jace opened his eyes to watch her grip his large hand in her own. She was warm.

"Thank you." She whispered. She seemed different, less outspoken, less…brave. Jace felt crushed at the thought, but he knew it was the truth.

"No… Thank you. For everything- you saved us." Clary raised her eyebrows disbelieving, but Jace leaned in further to get closer. "I'm not joking, Clary. You were the one that looked in that door; I thought it was a store cupboard…"

They simultaneously shuddered as they remembered the sight of Hodge's body. Jace cringed.

"Sorry." He muttered, looking at the floor. Clary waited for the panic to envelop her, the panic to engage her… but it was bearable.

"Don't be…" She started, and Jace looked up. "My Mom. She keeps trying to make me talk to her; she wants to know what happened but… I can't do it. I can't bring myself to tell the whole story." Jace nodded. He knew what she meant; even when he was giving a short statement to the police, he could barely get the words out.

"But…It's better with you. You were there. You know." Her voice was growing raspy now, but she tried her best to finish.

"I tried to make her let you in the first day; I needed to see you, to know that…" She trailed off and began to wheeze, her breathing hoarse and Jace immediately rose up from his seat to sit beside her, rubbing her back gently.

"Hey- we're good, yeah? You and me, we're okay." She nodded and took a moment to calm down. Luckily her arm was no longer attached to the heart monitor so she didn't have to hear the erratic noises every minute.

"Sorry." She said carefully. "That seems to happen a lot now." Jace was worried that the more she talked the worse it would get, so he sat her back, sitting close next to her on the bed, their back sharing the head board.

"You… don't mind me this close, do you?" He asked gently, hoping she wouldn't push him away. She shook her head.

"It helps actually… Do you think… you could tell me about the others? I haven't been allowed out…" Jace sucked in a breath and began to explain.

He told her that Bat was discharged, that Kaelie and Maia were both banged up and bandaged up. He explained how Eric was doing okay, but wasn't talking- how none of them found it easy to talk.

When he told her that Jordan had been shot, and was still out of it, she put her head in her hands.

"But, they're hopeful." Jace tried to comfort. "Kaelie saved him, you know." Clary raised her head, trying to not act surprised. "She's actually really… impressive. They all are." Clary nodded at this. She knew they were brave; she just wanted to see them, to know that it hadn't all been her fault.

Then he told Clary about the papers, about the Cup. Maia had handed both over to the police, not before they all saw.

"They know, though." He said as the numbness wrapped around her. "They know you aren't like him, they know you weren't part of this."

But no matter what he said, the nightmare that Clary was living in still seemed to grow bigger around her. Jace only left out one part- the fact that Valentine escaped. He wasn't sure what the police had heard, or what Clary had been told, but he couldn't bring himself to tell her.

It was past visiting hours by the time they finished talking, and Jace wondered where Dr Penhallow was; she said that she would be back to get him.

It was at that moment that Detective Graymark knocked smartly on the door, calling out his name as he knew it would ease any tensions.

Clary looked to Jace, and he nodded; he had met Luke already, both as the Detective and as Maia's friend, and he was a good guy.

"Come in." Clary rasped, and the door swung open to reveal Luke and his partner. They stepped in.

"Morning, Jace. Hello- Clarissa, is it?" Luke stepped forward first while his partner tapped something out on a smartphone, an odd look on his face. Clary noticeably grimaced.

"Just… just Clary." She said softly, and Jace felt her tense up beside her.

"Okay, Clary, I'm Detective Graymark. We're sorry you haven't had any visitors yet today-" Clary zoned out slightly- she had completely forgotten. "But we were updating families. There was…news on Valentine Morgenstern."

Clary cringed hard, for a moment flashing back to the time that she spent in the hotel lobby, alone with her father. Luke looked on sympathetically. Jace jumped in, sensing the rising tension.

"Well?" He questioned as lightly as he could. Luke coughed awkwardly- he had to go through with it.

"He's… in police custody. Just wanted to let you stay informed, he's no longer a threat." His blue eyes looked troubled, stormy, and with a final pitying look he left the room, his silent partner following in his wake.

"Are you…" Jace began.

"I'm fine." Clary insisted. "You should get back- your family is probably here." Her face was expressionless, and instead of fighting it Jace just shrugged. She needed space.

"Okay." He said, and Clary looked at their tightly pressed legs as Jace fumbled in the pocket of his pants. He handed her a small slip of paper. "This is… it's my number. If you need anything, anything at all just call me, okay?" Clary looked at it fearfully, but took the slip of paper.

"Everyone is getting discharged today; I've put Maia's number on there too- she wants to talk." He stood up, smoothing out his wrinkled clothes.

"Don't shut us out, Clary." He said, and Clary looked down at the paper in her hands. "We're all we've got; we need each other."

And with that he exited through the still open door, shutting it carefully before meandering down the hallway in search of directions.

/

It was the evening; all but one of the bank robbery victims were being discharged, and Jocelyn Fray was sitting in a waiting room filling out insurance papers for her daughter when Detective Graymark walked in. She looked up subtly over her papers, not sure of what to say. She needn't have worried, as after pretending to refill his cup with putrid waiting room coffee, Luke turned straight to her.

"The last time I saw you, you were a Fairchild." He said softly. Jocelyn kept her temper even, not looking up at him.

"And the last time I saw you, you were an honest man." She retorted sharply. His mask slipped for a moment before he composed himself.

"I don't know what you mean, Jocelyn." He said hardly, staring straight at her. Jocelyn threw down the pad in anger and rose to her feet, her tall stature nearly meeting Luke's height.

"You know damn well what I mean, Luke. You lied to us- to all those families. You told my daughter that Valentine was gone, that you had caught him. That's a dirty lie to get yourself wrapped up in, something I never expected you to do-" Luke cut her off.

"And I never expected you to run away with a man like Morgenstern." She glared at him, and he almost regretted the words. Almost.

"I was a child then. We're adults now, and you're lulling these poor kids into a false sense of security; I would have told Clary the moment I heard you that you were lying, I just needed to wait and find out why." She folded her arms, tapping her foot impatiently. "Well then?" She repeated. "Why did you lie, in a criminal investigation at that?"

Luke sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"It's bigger than it seems, Jocie." She flinched at the nickname, but let him continue. "We need Valentine to feel comfortable, to feel like he's in charge. We need him to think that he's scared us into lying." Jocelyn scoffed.

"He has scared you into lying, Luke." He interrupted her.

"But he hasn't, see, we have a plan-"

"I don't give a damn about your 'plan', Graymark. Just know this; the second that this plan backfires, I'm telling Clary everything. I'm not putting her in danger anymore."

"I have people involved too, Jocelyn." He said scathingly, and Jocelyn glared harder- if that were possible.

"I'm taking her out of the state- out of the country if I can." This got Luke's attention.

"Jocelyn- you can't." She was livid.

"What the hell do you mean- 'I can't'. I can do whatever I please, and so can my daughter. If she chooses to leave, we leave."

"I mean it. Taking her out of the city would jeopardise the entire operation- we need them all to just stay put, go about their lives." Jocelyn felt like crying- the entire idea was absurd, utterly mad.

"Have you lost your God damn mind, Luke." She said slowly. "You want to leave them all, exposed in the city. That's your plan."

"They will have twenty four hour protection, Jocelyn. The finest team in the country is working on this- they will be safe, they just need to believe that Valentine is no longer a threat." Jocelyn threw her arms in the air, using physical force to stop herself from punching his idiotic face.

"No. No way am I letting my daughter be a part of this. We're leaving." She turned to pick up the papers, but Luke moved swiftly to block her exit.

"I hoped you wouldn't see through me. I hoped I wouldn't have to do this." He pulled a small file from his pocket and handed it to Jocelyn; she looked at it sceptically for a moment, tired face examining the cover before she opened it up and scanned it. The colour drained from her face.

"You can't do this. You can't be serious." Luke shook his head firmly.

"I've stopped it from going ahead on the basis that your daughter stays in the city. You have to cooperate." His face was stoic, and years of training had taught him to hide the heartbreak that would show on his face as he hurt his former best friend. The love of his life. She shoved the file back into his hand and pushed past him.

"Whatever you say, Detective." She said quickly, pulling open the door. "Just know one thing, Lucian Graymark. If anything happens to any of those children, I will personally kill you."

And with that she swept from the room, leaving behind an exhausted Luke and the smell of camomile perfume.

/

Her feet clicked harshly against the floors of the hospital, heels clacking with every step. She smelled like expensive perfume, the kind that people wished they owned, the kind they spend two years saving up for. She pressed her red lips into the warmest smile possible as she approached the nurse's station; she was a ghost, a shadow, she could be any one that she wanted to be.

Right now, she was the woman that Valentine wanted her to be.

She clutched the bunch of roses tighter too her, their artificial fragrance pervading her nose, surrounding her like a saccharin cloud. This was a performance of the lifetime- she had been working on him for weeks, and now that the plan was in motion she was excited, practically buzzing with adrenaline.

She flicked back her hair; what was once a golden blonde was now a reddish auburn. Apparently he liked auburns. He certainly seemed to like her.

She finally reached the nurses station and she put on her biggest smile; gleaming, catlike teeth set in a sweet position.

"I'm here for Jonathon Fray- he said he left a note at the nurse's station. He's visiting his sister." She said sweetly; her best impression of a lady, a lady that played by the rules.

"Could I see some ID, please?" The wallflower nurse asked, and she dug around in her expensive purse and handed over a plastic card. The nurse looked it over, tapped something into her laptop, and looked up, smiling like a puppy.

"If you'd like to follow me, Miss Queen." She said cheerily.

"Oh please, call me Seelie." She simpered, biting back a smirk. "I do love to feel like people know me."


	6. Modern Medicine

A/N: Thank you to everyone who has given this story such a great response so far. I have plans for this, so stick around! A bit of angst and bromance in this one, as well as the beginnings of Clace. Read and review, it makes me so happy, and enjoy. PS It's really helpful when people let me know what to improve on, so don't be shy!

Chapter 6: Modern Medicine

Twenty three.

Jace stared at the brass number emblazoned in his door for some time; it was the first time coming back to his apartment in what felt like... forever. The front door was gleaming wood tinted cherry coloured, a glossy '23' nailed to the door, and Jace prided himself on the way it looked. Well, he used to. He used to be so pleased with his apartment, happy with the way it would impress whatever girl he would bring home, whichever clients he wanted to impress.

Breathing in a deep sigh, Jace stuck the key in the lock and twisted, pushing the door open and stepping in.

His apartment was large; not as large as his Mom's house, the house he had been staying at for the past few days, but it was large for an apartment in New York. And at that moment, it disgusted him.

He walked through the living room, watching disdainfully out of the large glass wall that gave him a perfect view of the city- some people would die for that view, and he knew it, he liked to gloat about it- but all Jace felt now was an uncomfortable and exposed.

So he set to work. His room was clean, as always, but in the crumpled sheets he had left behind on...that day, he found a pair of underwear that were bright pink and undoubtedly didn't belong to him. Throwing it in a trash bag and moving on he spent the next three hours cleaning, something he rarely bothered to do anymore, and by the end of it he had three large moving boxes filled with junk.

It felt peaceful, in a weird way to remove all the stuff. At least know he knew that there would be no whirr of a coffee machine or humming of a stereo in the middle of the night. It was comforting.

He pushed all the stuff to the front entrance and finally looked around at what was left. He had gotten rid of the expensive rug, and now his living room consisted of one plush couch and a coffee table, along with two bookshelves packed with books- and only books. And no more TV- in that hospital he had been kept awake by the constant noise of machines. It was time for a change.

No more empty beer cans.

His room was nice and white, the way he likes it, with freshly laundered sheets and crisp corners. The stench of sin was gone, and he knew it was his own fault that his life had ended up so... Muddled.

He sat in the bed and held his head in his hands, thinking long and hard. He didn't feel safe alone, but at the same time he needed the peace to think, to gather his thoughts. At least maybe now people couldn't constantly ask if he was okay.

With that he leant his head back into the pillow, the fresh scent familiar and reassuring, and he slept in his own bed for the first time in weeks.

/

"Jon, I'm fine- really." Jonathon looked down at his sister, not convinced at all. She was staying with her mother, and he brother had decided to commute daily to the house.

With his girlfriend.

"Really- my pillows don't need fluffing, I've taken my meds- I truly think that little harm will come to me whilst I sit on the couch." She watched, only slightly uncomfortable, as her brother laughed shortly. She felt mellower, less worried.

Maybe it was all the drugs talking.

Every day since she left the hospital had ticked past in a haze of idle chatting and her mother forcing her to eat; after months of living off of bread and coffee she didn't really mind, but the atmosphere in the house felt wrong. Her mother seemed off.

As for Jonathon's girlfriend, she was... sweet. Sickly sweet almost.

Clary felt bad for thinking it- she had never been good at socialising; maybe that was how normal girls acted, bubbly and flirty and happy all the time, maybe Clary was just the dull, surly one.

She peeked through the living room door to spy 'Seelie' in the kitchen, telling Clary's mother how lovely the kitchen tiles were. She really did ooze honey.

When Jon had first introduced them, Clary had been packing to leave the hospital, looking haggard and homeless. Seelie had strutted in, in her six inch heels and expensive handbag, and swept Jon into a kiss- before enveloping Clary in a painful hug, ignoring her flinch of pain, and handing her a bouquet of Italian roses.

Clary had thanked her awkwardly and smiled through small talk, wondering how Jon had never mentioned her before.

"We only met recently- she's a secretary at the office." Jon had said quietly as Seelie introduced herself to their mother - Jon worked for some high end stock brokers, or accountants, or business men of some sort, and made quite a lot of cash- until he spent it all on the decks.

Clary sighed, leaning her hard against her brothers shoulder; it had been a long time since she had been around her family properly- they had always been close, the three of them, but lately she had been struggling with money and rent and work, and no matter what she got paid there was never anything in the bank-

She stopped herself short, not wanting to think about it any more.

"How long have you been seeing her, then?" Clary enquired, amused, and Jon grinned his signature toothy smile.

"Not long- I wasn't even going to introduce her yet, but when she heard that you were in the hospital she insisted on coming: she's sweet that way."

Clary tried her best not to laugh at the word 'sweet'. She practically had a toothache.

Seelie was nice; she had pretty blue eyes, auburn brown hair and a tall stature that nearly reached up to Jonathon's or Jocelyn's, meaning that she towered over Clary. But she gave off bad vibes.

Not in an obvious way, but Clary noticed it. The sly undertone to her words, the flash in her eyes. Maybe she was just a gold digger; maybe Clary was paranoid.

Or maybe she was bad news.

Dropping the subject of Seelie she stated around at the small living room that belonged to her mother; she had a nice, moderately sized home on the outskirts of the city, and it was warm and lively- so much different to the house she grew up in.

But she would be going home tomorrow, to the cold and empty apartment in the middle of the city. She had loved the freedom the city gave her at first, now she wasn't so sure.

With that thought she picked up her phone; it was older and a big banged up, but she could call and text who she needed to; when she got her Mom to pick it up from her studio when she arrived home she had been bombarded with messages and voicemails from her mother and brother from the day of the indecent- it was disconcerting to hear them, and made her uncomfortable to go near her phone again.

She slipped off her phone case carefully and pulled out the- albeit grubby- piece of paper Jace had given her. It still had his number and Maia's scribbled on in elegant script, but she hadn't yet done anything with it. Jonathon watched her fiddle with it for a moment before enquiring.

"What's that?" He asked; he had no tact, but knew when Clary was on the fence on a subject, and he could tell she needed help. She folded it up again, sighing.

"Some of the people that were... there that day... they gave me their numbers." She pushed out, and Jonathon nodded.

"And have you used them yet, called anyone?" He responded carefully, ensuring that neither his mother nor girlfriend could hear. Clary shook her head, curls of red falling from her loose bun.

"Are you going to?" Clary looked up into his face, taking in the familiar green eyes that they shared.

"I'm scared." She admitted. Jon raised his eyebrows as she blurted it out for the first time, but kept the subject on an easy tone so as not to scare her into shutting him out.

"Clary." He said, taking her cold hand in his own. "There's nothing to be scared of, not anymore." She looked at the paper again.

"Isn't there?" And with that she placed the paper back into her phone case, popping it back in place.

/

Jocelyn felt like she was going to be sick; Clary was insistent on leaving the next day, and she had no way to stop her. Valentine was out there- he was lurking still- and she wasn't allowed to warn her daughter.

Luke had told her that the State Department wanted to investigate Clary; they wanted to interrupt her life and charge her with accessory to murder and robbery, and the only way to stop them was to allow Clary to cooperate and leave her in the dark.

She sighed as she made tea, zoning out the light chatter of her son's girlfriend; she had insisted on helping make tea, and although she was under a massive deal of stress she couldn't bring herself to snap at the eager woman.

She sighed, turning to peer through the open kitchen door at her children; Clary had her head resting against Jonathon's shoulder, and she could hear their murmurs over Seelie's chatter.

Nothing would fix this. Jocelyn couldn't protect her child forever; she knew that between twenty four hour protections from the police or spending the rest of her life running from her past and spending nights in jail cells, the former was far better than the latter.

She just watched her daughter silently, holding back her sobs until the next day when her daughter climbed into a loaded cab, waving back to her mother. Only then did she allow herself to cry.

/

Maia had managed to get herself to the third floor of Jace's apartment complex on her injured leg, hauling a plastic bag of groceries, and was now standing in front of hid door with Jace staring at her in surprise. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly as he stared at her, unsure of what to say. Maia just smirked and raised her hand in a wave; her mannerisms were calm, calculated, but the bags under her eyes told a different story.

"Hey." He said quietly, not wanting to wake his neighbours.

"Hey." She replied, and the bag on her arm to the floor, adjusting her crutches. "Can I come in?"

Jace got over his initial shock quickly and gestured her inside.

"I hope you don't mind me coming over." She began as Jace picked up her bag and followed her in, leading them into the living room. "Luke kind of gave me your address, and I… well I assumed that you, like me, may be having trouble sleeping. And I guess since you're wondering around at nearly midnight, I'm right?"

Jace just let her sit down before turning on the light in the kitchen, not letting her see the look on his face. He didn't want to talk about his demons.

"Uh, can I get you anything?" He asked; he wasn't really sure what she wanted to do, but he let her talk.

"No no, I'm good." She said. "I just… I guess I wanted company. If that's okay, I mean it's just Kaelie and Bat are visiting Jordan, and Luke isn't around and… I mean I can leave." Maia trailed off after her tangent, looking up at Jace with her hazel eyes. He sighed; he wouldn't be sleeping anyway. He disappeared into the kitchen for a moment, Maia watching after him, and then reappeared with two beers. He handed one to Maia and sat down.

"So… What's up?" He said carefully. Maia laughed bitterly, and they both gulped down their drinks.

"I think I died." Maia started, and Jace spat out his drink.

"Maia. What are you even talking about?" He questioned as he wiped his mouth, Maia looking on seriously.

"These days, nothing feels real. I don't do anything but sit around a hospital, I don't have a job, and I don't have a life. I just… I think I died when I went into that bank, and now I just walk around waiting to… disappear." Jace nodded; he kind of understood.

"What are we gonna do?" He asked rhetorically, and they both took long swig, letting the buzz settle over them as they continued their, albeit awkward, conversation.

/

Clary settled herself back into her apartment, into her home, locking her triple lock with a sense of finality. She had purchased the industrial steel lock the day she moved in, and it was the most comforting thing that she owned at the moment. Her bed was like she remembered; her books and paints and her paintings scattered lazily over every surface available, and no matter how much she loved her mother and her brother, this was her home. She was home.

She dumped her bags at the door and moved through the small rooms to her kitchen, depositing the anti-anxiety and antibiotic medications next to her trusty kettle, glancing at the kilo of instant coffee next to it. Her whole life, laid out in one room, in one apartment.

She went and sat on her couch, holding a mug of warm liquid against her heart, against her aching heart. And she fell asleep like that, listening to the emptiness of her home.

/

There was blood on her hands. It was bright, wet, glistening; it was burning her.

"Jace!" She screamed desperately from her position on the floor; she only just noticed that she was knelt on the cold tile floor of the bank, darkness engulfing her, hands covered in blood.

"Kaelie!" She screamed out again, looking around at anything for help. There was no one around.

She stood shakily, trying not to slip on the blood on the floor, wiping it off onto her clothes with disgust.

"Please!" She screamed, her voice hoarse. "Where am I?" She whipped around as something cold passed by her, and for the first time she caught a glimpse of the shadow that was following her, cloaked in darkness. It couldn't be.

"You're gone." She whispered, clutching her heart tightly. "You can't... I'm not afraid of you any more."

She cringed as the man in front of her chuckled darkly; face moving in her vision like steam. She could still smell his breath.

"Where am I?" She again, not yet defeated but with her resolve crumbling away like dry sand in the wind. A pale hand reached out to her, cupping her chin tightly.

"You're where you should be." He started, his contorted face grinning down at her. "You're with me."

And with that he reached forward, pushing three fingers hard into her chest, and Clary watched in horror as they sank in inches, excruciating pain tearing a screech from her lips, something wet and warm seeping across her torso...

Clary woke with a start, jolting herself from her nap to find her mug of coffee spilled across her chest.

It was just a dream.

But then again, was it? Too fearful to go back to sleep Clary rose from her couch and stripped off, climbing into the shower to wash off the coffee and sweat; she was meant to be taking it easy, instead she was just aggravating her wounds more. She let cold water run over her hot body, numbing her.

She jumped out as soon as possible, not wanting to be so enclosed, and changed into a large t-shirt and pants; the only thing that kept her busy was pacing her apartment: the cloak on her wall told her it was close to midnight, and the blackness of the sky confirmed it. It was dark as hell.

She kept pacing, hoping that she would tire herself out in some way, hoping she could stop the cogs of her mind from turning; nothing was working, and she had to keep walking for fear of someone breathing down her neck. She was truly terrified now.

She couldn't call her mother; it wouldn't be fair, and what would she say? That she had had a nightmare, and would Mommy come over to fix it. She couldn't do that anymore.

She couldn't call Jon- not when he was most likely with his new girl friend, his latest fling. It would end badly, and the last thing that she needed was for sickly sweet Seelie to see her being this weak.

Clary sat on the couch, not thinking straight. Her pool of reliable family had run dry, and now she was left alone- scared out of her mind in her own apartment.

She glanced at her table, at her silent phone, only allowing herself a minute to think before she picked up the phone, pulling off the case and dialling. She half expected him not to pick up; it was the middle of the night, and she was practically a stranger.

That's why she was surprised when a voice rang out, clear as day, after only one ring.

"Hello?" A voice asked, calculating and unsure. There was another voice in the background, one that she couldn't quite make out, and she blanched. "Hello…" The voice said again. It was Jace's voice, and although he sounded slightly irritated, the sound of anyone familiar was comforting to her.

"Jace?" She said quietly, and the breathing and the voice in the background of the phone call cut off.

"Clary?" He said, caught off guard. "You used the number? Are you okay?" Jace shushed Maia in the background who was questioning him. "It's late."

Clary nodded nervously, playing with her wet hair, forgetting he couldn't see her.

"Yeah… well, I don't know. I didn't know who to call. You know what, I'm sorry- this was a dumb idea." She moved to end the call when he replied hastily.

"No! No, it wasn't stupid, look are you doing okay? Maia's here as well; she came over she was so alone." Jace grinned into the speaker, trying to comfort her, and Maia just yelled at him incoherently. Clary smiled.

"I'm fine, honestly." She said. "I guess I just wanted to hear someone's voice…"

She trailed off, closing her eyes. She already felt calmer, like there was someone in the room with her, soothing her.

"Hey look." Jace's voice came over the crackling speaker. "You can come over if you like… or we can come to you, you don't have to be-"

He was cut off by a large crash- a crash in Clary's apartment. She jumped to her feet, looking around the small room at what had made the noise. The phone slipped from her fingers as they shook manically, her heart racing; Jace moved his ear away from the phone as it let out a crackle of static.

"Clary?" He said carefully. There was no response.

Clary walked slowly through her kitchen, eyes darting frantically round her home as she tried to keep her train of thoughts off of the worst scenario. It was just an open window. Despite the fact that there were only two windows in her apartment…

She made it to the kitchen, scanning round at the locked window. She breathed a sigh of relief and moved to leave; not before grabbing a short knife from the kitchen.

"Clary!" Jace yelled down the phone now.

"What is it?" Maia asked, getting up from the couch and walking over to where Jace stood. His eyes were dark, brows furrowed.

"The line's still open… but I heard a crash. And then another." He kept his voice steady. There was an explanation for this; there had to be.

Her apartment was silent as she moved to her room, knife clutched tightly in her palm, the handle digging in harshly. Her heart was fluttering dangerously, radar warning her to keep away.

The door to her room was ajar, the way she left it.

But already she could feel the breeze filtering through the wide open window within that she had been so sure she had locked.

Sucking in a deep breath she gripped the handle, pushing open the door.

It was at that point that both Maia and Jace jumped as they heard a yell down the phone. They shared a look, eyes wide and crazy. Jace brought the phone back to his ear, yelling now.

"Clary! Please pick up, seriously." Maia grabbed the phone from his hand, usually tanned skin getting greener by the second.

"Fray! Answer right now before I kick your butt, okay?" There were tears in her eyes as she shouted but neither of them cared. Jace ran a hand through his hair, ripping the roots. He grabbed the phone back, and as it hit his palm the call disconnected and a buzz sounded, alerting him to a text. He quickly tried to dial again, having no response, before going to check the text message. Maybe it was Clary. It was.

He let out a sigh of relief, opening the inbox, however he was met with a loading image- Maia watched over his shoulder as it loaded, anxiety coursing through her veins where the blood should be. It finally loaded, followed by a text.

The words read an address.

"That's in a pretty rough place in the city." Maia identified quickly, but Jace was more concerned by what was written beneath it.

'TELL THE ANYONE AND NEXT TIME WILL BE WORSE.'

Blood drained from his face as he read the message, and he scrolled up to open the photograph; he nearly dropped the phone.

It was Clary, lying on a wooden floor in a dimly lit room. Her eyes were closed, her legs splayed at an odd angle.

"What the hell." He said.

"It's Clary." Maia whispered, her crutch tapping against the floor. Jace sprang into action, leaping from his position and running to grab his coat.

"Jace!" Maia yelled at his retreating form, her leg not letting her move quick enough. "What are you going to do?" He glanced back.

"I've got to go and help her- that's why I got the text. Just…call Bat, or Eric. Don't tell Luke." He said quickly. "And lock the door!" With that he raced from the door, pounding down the street in his pyjamas. He yelled out to a cab once he was on the street, breath heavy and hard. After sighing out the directions he sat impatiently in the back, watching street lights flash past like stars.

They finally arrived at the building; small and dank, but in the right place. What was this- did Clary really live in this shabby apartment complex?

Throwing some cash at the cabbie, he clambered out- checking his phone for a floor number. He ran into the building; no desk clerk, no elevator. Thanking God for all the years he spent on the football he pushed forward onto the stairs, taking steps two at a time. His heart was racing, eyes hyperaware of his surroundings. He finally made it to the right floor, pushing the smudged wooden door aside to open out onto a dimly lit hall. He hurried down it, looking for the right number, the right door.

He needn't have rushed; hers was the only door wide open, light spilling blatantly out into the hallway. He burst in, not caring about the lack of privacy.

"Clary!" He yelled out. "Where are you?" He got no response, and ignored the bile rising in his throat.

He moved swiftly through the rooms, rushing from the living room to the first door on his left, forgetting to be quiet or careful in case the intruder was still around.

He pushed the door open, and in the tiny room the first thing that he saw was a bed; then the open window, blatant breeze fluttering the pieces of paper on the wall. And then he spotted her, sprawled near his feet, hair spread out in a bright fan. He crouched down, cupping her cheek and feeling for a pulse. He sighed in relief as he felt a gentle beat against his fingertips, and moved to switch on the light just as she let out a groan.

"Jace." She muttered, shielding her eyes against the light as she looked up at him. He offered her a hand, pulling her to her feet and hugging her to his chest.

"Clary." He breathed. "You're okay- what the hell happened?"

She took in his scent- slightly sweaty and musty, but slightly like a bright cologne. She sighed, but shortly realised that her head was pounding, and that Jace was in her room. She pulled back, startled, and looked into his surprised face.

"How did you get in, Jace?" She asked quietly, looking around her room- the window was open, and the knife she had been gripping earlier lay discarded on the floor. She furrowed her brows.

"There was… someone here, wasn't there." Her wide eyes looked up at him, and he gulped. He couldn't keep it from her. He pulled his phone from the pocket of his pyjama pants and flicked it on to the messages, passing them silently to her.

No.

God, no.

Clary stared horrified at the image of her own body, feeling invaded in the worst way. Violated.

"Who the hell did this?" She whispered, looking up at Jace. She was furious, terrified. All the emotions at once, as well as none at all.

"I don't know." Jace said- the cogs in his head turning. "But I know that you can't stay here anymore." Clary's head snapped up. She shouldn't be mad at him, but she didn't know where else to channel her fear. Her eyes narrowed.

"You can't tell me what to do. I can stay here. I'm not going to be scared away."

Jace rolled his eyes at the new fire she shot at him.

"I'm not trying to control you, okay Red? I'm trying to help- just, come and stay at my place for tonight. Maia's there- we won't be alone, if that makes you uncomfortable." He rubbed the back of his neck, a force of habit. She let the flames inside her simmer down, but still stood her ground.

"I can't. I can't leave." She muttered, moving forward to lock the window; Jace was frustrated now.

"C'mon Clary, don't be stubborn. You know that this place isn't safe, not anymore."

She whipped around.

"I had three locks on this place, Jace. Three. What makes you think that your place is going to be any safer?" She tried to push past him but a wave of dizziness swept over her and she stumbled straight back into him, strong arms steadying her. He leant down to look into her eyes, sighing to himself.

"Okay. Don't come for you; come for me- not that I can anyway, but I won't be able to sleep if you're here alone. Just come on. Pack a bag, stay the night. Please."

He was close to getting on his knees to beg her, but she caved.

"Fine. Get my bag from behind the door." She muttered, and Jace grabbed the worn back pack, handing it to her and looking away as she loaded it with her belongings. She was secretly glad to leave; would she admit it? No. It was too risky to let him get to her, especially now…

"Okay." She said after a while. "I'm done."

She slung the bag over her back and followed the sombre Jace out of her apartment, out of the home she loved.

The home she had loved, the place she felt safe in. Up until now.

Closing the door behind her and Jace, she got a last glimpse at her beat up couch, and she couldn't help but feel like this feeling was worse. She had been chased from her own home by whoever was intent on hurting her; and nothing, not even climbing into a warm cab with a comforting friend could make her feel any better.

/

"Alec, you need to stop worrying so much." Isabelle said carefully to her brother who was currently pacing her apartment. "Jace is okay; you're okay. Nothing is going wrong so just... relax."

Alec let out a breath that he hadn't known he was holding in.

"Something doesn't seem right." He muttered, and Izzy rolled her eyes.

"You seem to be saying that alot. Please just sit down- you're wearing down my carpet."

He sat unhappily with a thud; nothing could shake his feeling of uneasiness and it was worrying him. What if Jace wasn't okay. He rose from his seat.

"I'm going to check on him." He said with finality and moved to grab his coat- only to be stopped by Izzy who stood in his way.

"Alexander- don't be unreasonable. It's past midnight." She crossed her arms, and Alec prepared to argue his case, but he knew that she was right.

"Is it gonna feel like this forever, Iz?" He queried, head hung. "Because sometimes, when he isn't here, I truly think that I can feel his pain. And it kills me."

/

Valentine was angry.

"I'm telling you, it wasn't there. No matter what you think of your daughter, she doesn't have it." Sebastian explained. "At least I sent the text."

Valentine ignored him, walking over to the small screen of his laptop that now depicted his daughter's empty apartment. His fists clenched.

"Seelie." He seethed. "What about you- did you manage to complete your job, or did you completely screw up as well." He threw a look to the girl perched at the edge of the room who was smirking as she reapplied lipstick.

"Oh, I completed it alright. Jon won't know what hit him when I'm through with him- and his spectacularly dumb friends in the security business."

Valentine sighed.

"What about this boy. Is he a threat?" Sebastian raised his eyebrows.

"Lightwood? No- he's a nobody. This is going to work Valentine, I'm telling you." He trailed off as his boss moved away from him.

"It better." He said, twirling the ring he held in his fingers. "For your sake."


	7. It All Hits Home

A/N: Latest update! Thanks to everyone for the positive responses. As pointed out I made a mistake- in the text message in the previous chapter it should say "TELL ANYONE" not "TELL THE ANYONE". Sorry for the confusion! Please read, review and enjoy, and let me know any other story or plot ideas you'd like to see.

Chapter 7: It All Hits Home

Black eyes. She had walked into her bedroom, knife clutched in her hand, and then… black eyes?

Clary sat up with a groan- she was on Jace's couch, Maia next to her, half asleep, and she had been running through last night in her head over and over. She had walked into her room, saw the open window, and then it all cuts to black. Her head was pounding heavily, so Maia guessed someone had hit her over the head before they could be seen.

It had taken Jace and Maia half the night to convince her not to call anyone, but in the end she had agreed; Jace had a feeling that the threatening message hadn't just been directed at her, and she didn't want anyone else getting hurt because of her. The real question now was; if Valentine was gone, who did this?

She blinked open her eyes and looked around at Jace's home. It was more than twice the size of her own apartment, and it was furnished lavishly. At least, the furniture looked and felt expensive. There were few personal items in the room- no photographs, no TV. It was verging on cold.

At that thought she shivered and heard a cough, turning to see Jace's tousled head of blonde hair appear in the kitchen doorway, followed by Jace who was gripping two mugs of something hot.

"Hey." He whispered. "I didn't want to wake Maia up- do you want some?" He held out a mug to her and Clary rose carefully to her feet- trying not to disturb Maia's leg, and joined him in the kitchen. It was nice; not too small with white furnished countertops and a medium dining table. It made her blush as she thought about Jace roaming through her dingy apartment. As she walked over she noticed a stack of boxes by the door, along with some bin bags and a rolled up rug. She took the coffee from him gratefully, letting the warmth from the mug seep over her chilled fingers, and looked over at Jace. She wasn't sure what to say.

"What's with all the boxes?" She blurted out, followed by a gulp of hot coffee. It burned. Jace's eyes flicked over to where the open kitchen door showed the pile of boxes in the living room.

"Just… having a clean out. Nothing felt like mine anymore." He said roughly. Clary swallowed; this was dangerous territory.

"What will you do with it?" She asked quietly. He shrugged- he hadn't thought that far. "You could give it to charity?" She said. He nodded.

"Yeah that's, that's a good idea." An awkward silence settled over them, Clary cradling her coffee, and eventually Clary asked the question she wanted to know the answer to.

"If…" She breathed out an anxious breath and Jace looked up. "If Valentine is really gone… Who is doing this?"

Jace sighed heavily, and Clary watched the dark circles under his eyes, realising that all three of them shared that in common. There was no way they would ever sleep easy again, was there?

"I have no idea. Maybe someone saw the news and thought this would be funny."

Clary scoffed.

"Sick sense of humour." Jace raised his eyebrows in agreement, eyes flashing.

"Sure is."

/

Jordan was awake.

"Maia. He's awake- he's sitting up and talking and… he's just awake! So come over right now, bring everyone. Eric is here- so is Kaelie, but I reckon you should get Clary and Jace- Luke too! He's asking for them." Maia held the speaker away from her ear as Bat continued to chatter incessantly into the phone. The excitement was evident in his voice, and even though she had been awoken unpleasantly by her phone ringing from an unpleasant dream, she still felt relief bloom in her chest when she heard that Jordan was okay.

Clary and Jace weren't in sight so Maia just sat up and rubbed her eyes, bringing the phone back to her ear.

"Bat. Calm down, okay? We'll be there as soon as possible." She said, biting back her anxiety. "Let me just get Jace and Clary."

"Clary's there too?" She heard his voice say. Maia sighed remembering the previous night, the panic that had set in her bones once again.

"Yeah… she's good though, we were just… We'll be over soon, okay, tell Jordan."

With that she ended the call and rose from her seated position. There was faint talking coming from the kitchen so she quickly freshened up in the bathroom before heading in there.

Both Jace and Clary were sat at his kitchen table, cold cups of coffee sat on the table as they talked. They both looked exhausted, but were still talking amicably- which Maia was relieved about due to the overwhelming tension of yesterday's events- and they both looked up as she walked in.

"Morning." She said, sitting down as Jace hastily grabbed her a cup of coffee- instant, apparently- and took hold of it. "How long have you guys been awake?" She questioned.

"Not too long." Clary lied, pulling her long curls back into a ponytail, soft curls leaping out. Maia watched, slightly mesmerised, and she caught Jace looking too. He gulped.

"Bat called." She continued, snapping out of it. "He says that Jordan is awake- and everyone else is over there. He wants us to stop by."

Jace's eyes lit up; no matter how terrifying the previous night had been, he felt a weight lift off of his chest. If Jordan was okay it was a sign that everything else would be okay. He and Clary rose up and ditched their cups, Maia following shortly after.

They arrived at the hospital less than an hour later, navigating their way through a crowded lobby, hearts pounding. Maia's hand was gripped tightly in Clary's, the two of them walking behind Jace who was walking with purpose toward the elevator.

They clambered in first, Jace jamming his finger against the closed door button, watching with no remorse as a crowd of people yelled out indignantly. But Clary was too busy watching a pair of black eyes watch her, flicking dangerously across her face and the faces of the other two in the elevator. She blinked, a chill filling her veins, but they were gone. The doors were closed, cold metal obstructing her view, and there were no longer empty eyes staring into her soul.

Jace watched her silently as the lift ascended- her face had lost its colour, a greyish pallor sweeping across her features. He nudged Maia, not wanting to be the one to ask, and Maia squeezed her fingers.

"Hey." She muttered as Jace stuck his hands in his pockets and pretended to be interested in the floor. "You good?" Her own head was filled with vague worries, but she watched Clary turn her head slightly, eyes still fixed to the door.

"I'm fine." She said shakily. "Just thought I saw… something. Nothing. I'm fine."

Maia was about to say something else just as the elevator doors dinged open. Jace coughed and stepped out first, Maia being cut off by Clary pulling her along. The way they walked was familiar, and as they approached the nurses station in the private wing all three of them ignored the pitying looks from the nurses as they were directed to Jordan's room. They didn't need a reminder of their own awful situation.

Finally they made it to the room, and peering in Jace's face broke into a smile as he saw Jordan's- albeit pale and drawn- face grinning at them from an upright position in his bed.

Jordan looked on as they all walked in; his stomach hurt like a bitch, and his head was still pounding, but he was finally off of all the pain meds and thinking clearly. When he had first awoken there had been tubes down his throat, needles in his arms and it was awful, like being trapped inside his own body. Bat had appeared, calling for a nurse, and after that he was weaned off of the drugs whilst doctors told him of his miraculous recovery.

Jace was first to step forward; he shook Eric's hand firmly, murmuring that he was glad he was alright. Then he wrapped Kaelie in a quick hug. He then turned to Jordan.

"You look like hell, man." He said jokingly, and Jordan laughed through the pain in his head.

"Same to you." He replied, and they both grinned as Jace patted him on the back. Maia and Clary were behind him, talking quietly, and as he looked up he caught sight of Clary staring. She met his eyes and before he knows it she was flinging her arms around him, careful of the wires, and mumbling into his neck.

"I'm so sorry, Jordan. If you hadn't woken up... I don't know what I would have done." She was small and frail in his arms, and he patted her back awkwardly and she clutched his body.

"Hey, none of this was you- okay. Stop blaming yourself; I won't have that kind of negativity in my room." He said gruffly, smiling sincerely as she pulled away. Her green eyes were wide and searching, but dry.

"Okay." She whispered and moved away so that Maia could clap him on the back, greeting Bat as well.

Jace watched the scene; everyone in the room had purplish bags under their eyes and varying degrees of injuries, but despite this they all seemed okay. Okay-ish. Jordan was paler, the scars on his neck more prominent, the tattoos standing out garishly. Bat looked more relaxed, more relieved than ever, and if was reassuring.

Jace glanced outside the room through the open door, and he took in the odd looks the nurses were giving him, coupled with the police officer standing discretely at the end of the corridor- he thought that only security guards were stationed in hospitals. Shrugging of the sense f unease, he looked back to the crowd in the room as noticed Maia watching him, her backpack by her side as she sat on a chair, and her injured leg in front of her.

She had noticed the officer too- she had a good view from her seat and had noticed him just after Jace. She put her finger to her lips silently, an odd look on her face, and Jace nodded in curiosity. He saw Maia cast a swift look in Eric's direction, catching the less than friendly look that was held between them.

Hours passed as the group talked about the events, catching Jordan up on what had happened. Clary didn't mention the previous night's attack, and as the conversation turned toward the police Maia and Eric grew quieter and quieter.

"You wanted to know what we told the cops?" Bat said, reclining in the plastic chair beside Jordan's bed.

He nodded, about to speak when Eric interrupted.

"Yeah, Roberts, let's talk about what we told the cops."

His face was angry, plain features turned into an expression of anger. Maia shot him a pleading look, and everyone else watched in confusion.

"Eric…" He butted in again, not allowing her to finish.

"Because I for one am interested in knowing the truth, and I think everyone else deserves to know too." Bat shot Jace a confused look as the two fellow former employees glared at each other.

"Um… What did I miss?" Jordan asked, head whipping back and forth between people, taking in the varying expressions.

"Yeah, I would like to know what's happening." This came from Clary who was perched next to Kaelie on Jordan's bed. Eric's eyes never left Maia's, and finally she let out a short sigh.

"Close that door, Jace." She said, reaching into her bag. Jace complied, quickly sitting back down as Maia continued to talk whilst she rifled through her bag. "You can't tell anyone, okay? This is bigger than just us… Luke is on the line too."  
And with that Maia pulled her hand from the bag- but it wasn't empty.

Everyone in the room let out a gasp, save Eric and Maia, and stared at the object that she brandished. It was a goblet, thick set and embellished with vibrant jewels and patterns of gold. Jace let out a breathy laugh. It certainly didn't belong in Maia's backpack.

"What is that?" he asked the room, eyes still fixed to the cup; Bat opened his mouth to reply, but Clary beat him to it.

"The Mortal Cup." She said quietly. "But that's not… You're not… How did you get that?" She was sputtering now, disbelief colouring her tone.

"It was in the bank vault we were trapped in." Explained Eric. "It was in a safety deposit box along with some papers, and Maia decided that it was a good idea to keep it from the police by hiding it under my hospital bed."

Everyone was mildly shocked, and Maia immediately began to protest.

"That's not what happened- look, if we're gonna get into this just let me explain." The cup was resting in her lap now, and she finally divulged what had happened the first time she woke up after her surgery.

"Luke came to see me- he's a close friend, and he's on this case. Anyway, he came to see me- only briefly; he took the papers I had- Clary's birth records." Clary blanched, all the colour draining from her face. Maia waved it off. "They're safe now, he has them, but when he saw the cup… he said it wasn't safe to give it up, to hand it in. So he took it and put it under Eric's bed, because the police had already questioned him before his surgery." Eric nodded gloomily, guilt weighing his conscience.

"They nearly found out; some under cover cop or something showed up pretending to be my brother, asking about the Cup. Had to pretend I didn't know anything about it, didn't I, otherwise you and your cop-friend would've been in trouble."

Clary put her hand up to stop them. Everyone was slightly relieved that Maia hadn't done anything dangerous, but the more they found out the less sense things made.

"What I don't get is why we can't just give them the Cup- surely it's safer with the police?" She questioned. Maia looked at the ground, and Jace sensed there was something bigger.

"I don't want to scare anyone." She muttered. Kaelie scoffed.

"I'm already as freaked out as I can get." The blonde started, pulling the ends of her hair anxiously. "And I don't like liars- get on with it." Maia raised her eyebrows in surprise, head slightly higher, and spoke up again.

"The police don't have Valentine." She said clearly, and there was a collective ripple of fear. Clary especially felt the ever present panic set in. "They lied to cover up that fact that they lost him again… Luke told me, but I wasn't supposed to tell anyone. He says the police have some sort of plan." Bat rose up in indignation.

"A plan to get us killed? What the hell is going on?"

"He thinks there are a load of dirty cops- the system is too corrupt. That's why we can't hand over the Cup. If they think it's not in the city, they're more likely to leave us alone." Jordan spoke up, slightly green.

"So you're telling me that there's some deranged lunatic on the loose- a murderer I might add-" Eric flinched. "Roaming around the city. The public has no clue, the police are corrupt, and you've got your hands on some weird artefact that the psycho is after?" He finished, and Maia looked perplexed.

"Basically." Jace added. "What I still don't get is- what is it? Why is it so important?" Clary gulped, and Bat glanced at her. She seemed to know a lot about it- considering Valentine was her father.

"It's supposedly really old, and powerful; it was owned by a cult known as the Shadowhunters, who worshipped the Angel Raziel and believed that drinking from the cup would bring you immortality and status among angels. It's all rubbish, of course, but my father-" She choked for a moment, closing her eyes. "But Valentine, he believes that if he owns something like that then the royalty in Europe, and the remaining followers of Shadow hunter rule- like him and his crazy friends- they will give him power and protection." She finished slowly, and Jace whistled. So Valentine wanted it to pay his way across the globe. Slimy.

"That's not all… about the birth records…" And with that she launched off on the tangent that was her father's plan, the others listening in rapt attention.

/

"Seelie!" Jon called out through his apartment, searching his pockets rapidly. "Have you seen my phone?"

He hadn't heard from his sister all night and instead of running over to her dingy apartment in a panic like he wanted to, he decided it would be best to text her first instead. His girlfriend emerged from his bedroom, flawless hair tied back and wearing a tight business suit. She was rummaging around in a bag on her arm, and with a great flourish she pulled her well manicured hands out empty handed and looked at him with her watery blue green eyes.

"Sorry- I haven't seen it, is something wrong?" Seelie simpered sweetly, and Jonathon just turned back to rummaging through sofa cushions.

"No no, everything is fine, Lee. Have a good day at work." Seelie walked up behind him and placed a soft kiss on his cheek before turning to walk out the door, shutting it tightly behind her. She let out a pained breath; this had better all pay off for her.

She sauntered to the lift, the decadent interior of the metal box showing off the luxuriousness of the building, and she reached back into her bag to pull out the smart phone inside, tapping in the pass code and looking on triumphantly at the home screen photo of herself and Jonathon, a fake smile plastered on her face.

She erased the messages carefully as the elevator doors closed, and tapped the button for the ground floor, smirking the whole way down.

/

It took Clary nearly half an hour to explain what had happened; she started from when she was younger and her father was arrested- leaving out the gruesome details- and ended with the cliff notes version of what had happened in the bank. By this time everyone was feeling the enormity of the situation, and by the time she had finished the mood in the room had darkened considerably.

Jordan had been looking more tired as time went on, and Jace knew it was time to leave as he caught Bat's eye.

"Well then." He started, standing up. "I think that's enough mystery for one day. I've got some calls to make; is anyone coming." He looked around and saw Maia and Kaelie mouth something at each other. Clary stood up, giving Jordan a pat on the shoulder before pulling on her coat, and she went to stand next to Jace.

"Maia and I are gonna talk to Luke." Said Kaelie, the two of them still seated. A flare of fear rose up in Jace's chest.

"Alright; just come to mine after, okay? I don't feel right if we're all over the place in the city." He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, and Maia nodded. Clary waved goodbye and the two of them headed back down the familiar corridor they had walked down earlier.

They entered the elevators alone, Clary reaching out instinctively to clutch Jace's hand in anxiety. They pressed the button for the lobby, but the lift stopped before their floor, doors opening to let in a flood of sombre visitors.

A tense silence filled the lift as they descended, some of the occupants mumbling to each other as Jace and Clary stood closest to the door, prepared to get out as quickly as possible. There was a whimpering baby and its mother, along with a few surly looking men and a guy in a hoodie with his earphones plugged in, staring at the ground with as much disdain as Jace felt at his situation.

Finally they reached the ground floor and the lift doors opened, people filing out quickly. There was only one person behind the pair as they exited, and they made their way quickly to the front doors with no interruption.

Jace made way to hail a cab once they hit the busy street, but before he could he felt Clary's hand being wrenched from his own, and he nearly toppled over with the force. Spinning in his heel he saw a flash of Clary's crimson hair disappear into a slim alley beside the hospital. He groaned- not again.

He sprinted into the alley, narrowly avoiding the pedestrians that got in his way. He entered the dark, damp alley to see a hooded figure- the hoodie guy from the lift. Clary was struggling vehemently in her captor's arms, legs dragging along as she dug her heels into the ground, hands tugging at his arms.

"Hey!" Jace yelled, and distracting the guy he surged forward and punched him in the face, catching Clary as she wriggled free from his arms. Without thinking he kicked out, landing a hard blow on their assailant's shins. He let out a hiss, and for the first time Jace noticed that hoodie guy's face was hidden by a balaclava. He punched him hard in the gut once more, fist aching, but Clary was tugging on his arm now, pulling him hard away from the scene. Pouring on the speed the two of them ran from the alley as quickly as their legs would take them, muscles screaming in protest, and they didn't stop until they reached the end of a street two blocks over.

Clary slowed down first, leaning over to place her palms on her jean clad legs, panting heavily.

"What... The... Hell." She puffed out, stretching out a stitch. She watched as Jace clicked his back, pulling out his phone from his back pocket. He dialled a number he knew would be safe.

"Hey." He said as they picked up on the first ring. "Can you come and pick me up..." She listened intently as he finished his conversation, and her breathing was normal by the time he was finished.

"Who was that?" She asked.

"My brother." He replied awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. "Alec. I reckon he's our safest bet on getting out of here."

Clary nodded in agreement, and the two of them leant against the hard brick wall, waiting.

"Are you okay?" Jace finally asked, running his eyes over Clary's body to check for injuries. She just heaved a deep sigh and nodded.

"Yeah. No damage done; I'm kind of expecting it now to be honest." She laughed bitterly and leant her head against the wall, bright hair tangled and wild. She looked up and caught his eye. "I feel like all I've really been saying is thanks but... Well, thank you Jace. For not running away, for having my back."

Jace looked at her incredulously.

"Whether you like it or not, Red, we're in this one together."

Just as he said that a black car sped down the relatively empty street, pulling to a stop in front of them, brakes squealing in indignation. The front window began to roll down and Jace rolled his eyes as the back doors popped open. The blacked out windows disappeared and Clary watched curiously as the handsome face of a young man- Jace's brother- came into view. He had dark black hair and startlingly blue eyes that were narrowed in a frustrated sort of way.

"Good to see you, bro." Jace said smoothly and Alex scoffed. Then a voice beside him, feminine, from a person blocked from Clary's sight shouted out.

"Get in, you asshole!"

Clary glanced at Jace, startled, but both Jace and Alec were laughing exasperatedly.

"My sister." Jace mumbled as he prepared to climb in, gesturing for Clary to follow.

Isabelle Lightwood was dressed in a long, flowing skirt and a corset top- more fit for a Renaissance fair than downtown New York, but she still looked spectacular. Clary took in the ethereal look of the girl in front of her, who had now turned her head to shout at Jace from her shotgun position.

"Jace Lightwood, what the hell do you think you're doing? You don't answer any of my calls, Alec's going out of his mind worrying and you haven't even talked to Max since you got out of the hospital! We're you're family, not chopped liver!" She took a deep breath as Alec chuckled darkly, but Clary could see the strain in his face and the guilty look upon Jace's.

Isabelle snapped her head back to the front, playing with her nails. She started off again before anyone had a chance to respond.

"Who's this, anyway?" She said with slight disdain, clearly taking about Clary.

"Uh, I'm Clary. Clary Fray- Jace's..." She trailed off.

"She's a friend." Jace finished. Isabelle's snorted in an undignified manner.

"If that's what you're calling them now." She muttered. Clary raised her eyes in an amused look at Jace's reddening face. He spluttered out a few words.

"No... She's not- I mean we're not... It's not like that!" He obviously wasn't prepared to explaining the situation he was in, and Clary didn't blame him.

"I was in the bank." Clary said carefully, and Isabelle's smile dropped. "We're kind of... Sticking together." She finished, and Jace nodded mutely.

"Well." Alec said, breaking the tense silence. "I guess we're going to yours then, Jace?"

/

The door to Luke's office was closed, and Maia and Kaelie were muttering to each other as they passed the front desk, the secretary recognising Maia's familiar wave of acknowledgement. Luke had to be here- there was nowhere else that he could be during the day if he was 'doing paperwork' as he had told Maia, and if he wasn't in Maia would know that he was lying.

She rapped in the door with her knuckles, nearly throwing herself off balance on her crutches, and she heard Luke's familiar voice call out.

"Come in!"

She pushed forward with her hip and the two of them entered Luke's office. It was quite large, and had a heavy wooden desk pushed against the back wall with Luke sat behind it. He looked on as the pair walked in- Maia, followed by a willowy blonde girl. Both were on crutches, and the sight would have been comical if Luke hadn't been aware of the grim reality behind the injuries.

"Maia!" He said as enthusiastically as he could. "What are you doing here?" The man rose from his position at his desk to greet her, and Maia introduced her companion.

"This is Kaelie… You probably saw her once before. Look- I know you told me not to question it, but we need to know what's going on." Luke gestured for them to sit and he returned to his chair. He knew where this was going. Making sure that the door was firmly shut he turned to the two.

"This is about the Cup?" He said, and they nodded. "Do you still have it?"

Maia made a move to retrieve it from her backpack, and Luke waved her off quickly.

"No don't get it out here. Look, all I can tell you is what I know- trust me, if there were any simpler way to catch Valentine I would do it. I have my suspicions about some people in the department and the way they behaved when they first got the call about a hostage situation." He stopped, leaning back in his chair, and for the first time Kaelie noticed how young Luke actually was, and how the salt and pepper hair and the worry lines were deceiving.

"What do you mean?" Asked Maia carefully.

"I mean- it took them ages to actually pick up the damn call. An officer outside of the bank called it in hours before anyone at the station responded. We would've been there a lot sooner…" He trailed off

Maia gulped. Kaelie jumped in for the first time.

"What are we meant to do? Maia says that you have some sort of plan, but all I see is people grasping at straws, pretending Valentine isn't around."

Luke looked startled, but gave them the information that he could.

"Just…stay together. There's police protection on you twenty-four-seven, so we aren't doing nothing to help the situation. Just stay safe." And with that the door burst open, revealing Detective Wayland and a weedy looking man.

"Luke! We, er, need a hand." They disappeared from the door and Luke rose to his feet.

"I'll keep you updated." He said swiftly, patting Maia on the back and nodding to Kaelie before exiting the room, leaving the pair no more knowledgeable than they were before.

/

"You've failed me again, Sebastian." Came Valentine's voice, sharp and clear in the dark room. "I'm starting to feel that your plans aren't as well thought out as they seem"

Sebastian bowed his head, his eyes trailing to the grey hoodie abandoned on the floor.

"I'm sorry, sir. None of them are ever alone anymore." He felt a harsh blow to his ear and snarled as a feminine laugh filled the room.

"Shut up, bitch." He sneered at Seelie who was perched on a chair beside them. Valentine laughed, taking a seat across from the two.

"At least she can do what's asked of her." He said, and he set a small phone on the desk, pressing the play button and smirking as his daughter's voice filled the room.

"Uh… Jon, it's Clary. I don't want you to worry or anything, my phone's broken. Don't come over, I'm staying with a… friend." A click was heard, followed by another message.

"Let Mom know as well… She won't pick up my calls. Love you."

A beep rang out, then silence, and Sebastian narrowed his eyes so as not to see Seelie's triumphant smirk.

"I don't see how stealing a phone helps the mission in any way." He spat out, regretting it as another hard blow came to his face.

"That's because you're ignorant, boy." Valentine said calmly. "We can't go for Clarissa directly anymore, she's too well protected. She's expecting it. So we do what is best done when a pest keeps returning."

Seelie grinned and applied another coat of red varnish to her nails.

"And what's that?" Enquired Sebastian, black eyes glinting in excitement. Valentine drew a long dagger from his belt and began to run his fingers along it dangerously.

"You cut it off by it's roots."


	8. An Affinity for Bad News

A/N: Sorry it's been such a long time! I hope people are still interested. Last year of school comes with hellish work, but this is the longest chapter yet. I haven't bothered to edit it yet so apologies for any disastrous mistakes. I hope you enjoy, read and review. :))))

Chapter 8: An Affinity for Bad News.

Clary always knew that she had an affinity for bad news. She knew that bad things came in pairs where she was concerned, they came in bunches and hordes, the next thing as bad as the last. But as she lay on the cool, sharp tarmac, her head pressed against the ground by someone above her, she knew that this was the worst thing yet.

The person above her was only trying to protect her, her cheek imprinted with tiny stones, but as her wide eyes watched her friend fall to the ground, as she watched the life drain from their eyes she wished she was anywhere but there, and she knew.

She didn't have an affinity for bad news. Bad news had an affinity for her, and it would do anything it could in order to crawl back into her life, in order to seep its way through the people she loved.

She closed her eyes tightly as another shot rang out, and the silence that followed was deafening.

/

 **TWENTY FOUR HOURS EARLIER.**

"Jace!" Isabelle called out from her position on the couch. Her feet were tucked up beside her to leave room for Maia's crippled leg, and the ginger girl- Clary?- was sat on the floor next to Kelly. Kylie. Kaelie!

"What?" Jace popped his head round the kitchen door, Alec walking out beside him.

"What are you two whispering about…?" She questioned, eyes squinting accusingly.

"Nothing." Jace said too quickly, but made his way into the room. "When are you planning on going?" His eyes looked tired, but he tired to joke with his sister as she shook off his comment. She laughed bitterly.

"I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what's going on." She replied. Jace rolled his eyes- ever since Alec had dropped them to his place, they had stuck around, and the questioning really started when Maia and Kaelie had arrived. His siblings wanted to know what was going on and- in total honesty- so did Jace.

"Nothing is going on- like I said, us victims are sticking together." Maia glanced up from the notepad she was scrawling in to smile in amusement before looking down before Alec could catch her eye.

"I don't believe you." Huffed Isabelle, rising to her feet. "But I'm not staying where I'm blatantly not wanted- c'mon Alec."

She walked over to her brother and gripped him by the jacket, ignoring his splutters of protest that she was being ridiculous. With one last venomous look at Jace she was out the door, slamming it shut behind her. Jace sat down in her vacated spot with a sigh, rubbing his neck.

"Sorry." He muttered apologetically. "She's a bit of a diva. Then again I did miss her birthday so…" He laughed awkwardly into the silence before turning to Maia. "So, what did Luke say?"

Maia sat up a bit straighter and looked to Kaelie.

"Not much, to be honest. Only that we can't trust the police, which I knew anyway."

Jace raised his eyebrows.

"Great. Another thing to worry about." Came Clary's voice. Everyone looked put out by her bluntness and she blushed in embarrassment. "I'm joking."

Kaelie let out a yawn from her position on the floor.

"D'you mind if I just steal the bed for a bit?" She questioned; the plan was for her and Maia to share the guest room- Jace had offered his bedroom to Clary, however she was adamant on sleeping on the couch. "I just want to give Aline a call."

Maia nodded and, with Clary's assistance, she rose from the floor and made her way out of the room. Maia stuck her head back in her notebook and continued scribbling, and Clary attempted to hide a shiver.

"Cold?" He asked quietly, and Clary shook her head, biting back another shiver.

"No… I'm fine, just forgot to bring any sweaters…" She replied quietly, but with that Jace was on his feet, pulling her up too. She gripped his hand tightly as he pulled her up, hanging on a bit too long, and followed him.

"C'mon, you can borrow something of mine."

He led her across the apartment and into his room; the only one that she hadn't been in yet.

It was large for a bedroom in the city- well, compared to her bedroom it was a veritable mansion. The walls were white and plain, no pictures or paintings; the evening light was streaming dully through the window, and a row of shelves lined the wall opposite his bed, completely covered in books. Jace left her next to the bookcase and went off in search of a jacket, so Clary examined his collection.

"You're a fan of Dickens?" She exclaimed as he returned with a large jumper, handing it to her. She pulled it on, hiding her blush in the swathes of warm fabric as Jace scrutinised her question. "Thank you." She murmured.

"What makes you say that?" Jace said, leaving her at the shelf as he sat on his bed- white sheets, white pillows. Clary shrugged.

"Just… I mean, you have two copies of A Tale of Two Cities. I barely know anyone with one…"

Jace laughed slightly as she continued to search for a book that she liked.

"Well... It's a classic, you know." He said, and Clary attempted to raise her eyebrows at him- to no avail.

"Doesn't mean you need to own it." She retorted, and he grinned.

"You got me." He said, an unreadable expression crossing his face. "It's my favourite." She turned in surprise.

"Really?" She asked, her disbelief causing Jace to successfully raise his brows.

"Yeah, 'Really'. It's the only book my dad ever read to me…" He trailed off, and Clary- sensing dangerous territory- crossed the room to sit beside him, leaving sufficient distance. She gulped.

"In the… in the bank. You said that your dad…"

"Killed my mother." Jace interrupted. His voice was hoarse. "Yeah… he did. It's a long story." He tugged a hand through his hair and looked at the ground. Clary held her breath, heart thumping. She knew what it was like to be ashamed, afraid of the past. She knew what it was like to bottle everything up to the point where her chest felt it would explode. So she pushed on.

"I've got time." She said quietly, and Jace allowed his eyes to flutter shut.

"I lived with my Mom and my real father until I was five- they split up after that. God; I was so angry at my Mom, I hated her and every guy she dated after my Dad. I used to tell her it was her fault that he didn't call me, it was her fault he didn't want me. I didn't know he used to use her as a punching bag." Clary let out a soft gasp, careful not to startle him. He ran a hand desperately down his face again as the memories came flooding back.

"I worshipped the ground my dad walked on, even though he missed all my birthdays, never visited. I wanted him to want me so bad." He stopped again. It was too much.

"And then, on my tenth birthday, he sent me a copy of A Tale of Two Cities. I didn't even care that I had a copy already, I was so happy to have a gift from him!" He glanced up at his shelf, and Clary blanched. One was a gift from his father?

"The next day he turned up at our house, drunk off his head with one of his old revolvers. He came to my room- man, I was so happy, and then he just told me that, love wasn't enough. That to love someone is to destroy them. Then he left the room, shot my Mom, straight in the head, then shot himself."

Clary closed her eyes and instinctively reached out for him, closing her hand over his own. His fingers were clammy and cold, but clutched onto her.

"I called the cops; I went through a couple are homes, a few foster parents. But then I met the Lightwoods. They're my family now." Clary let the tears that were brimming in her eyes spill over her cheeks, and Jace looked up in shock.

"Hey." He said, leaning closer as she wiped her tears away on the grey fabric of his jumper. "Why are you crying? I thought this was my sob story." He let out a feeble laugh, and Clary looked up to the ceiling.

"I'm sorry." She said, snuffling slightly. "I'm so sorry, Jace." His face closed off, but he didn't look away.

"I don't need pity, Clary. I'm a big boy now." She just shook her head, reaching out and cradling his cheek. He leant into her soft palm, staring into her eyes, curious at her actions.

"I don't care if you're grown up. I know how it feels. You only wanted-" She bit back a sob. "You only wanted him to love you, and he threw it back in your face."

And with that she burst into tears, and Jace found himself once again with his arms wrapped around a girl he had hugged far too much when he had known her for less than a month. She was crying for him, with him because she had that much compassion to give away. It was heart wrenching. He felt a pang of concern as the slimness of her body revealed itself as his jumper gave way, and he tried to ignore the fact that he could count her ribs. But he couldn't.

"Clary." He said carefully, figuring a change of subject now would be a good a time as any. "This is gonna sound stupid, but why don't you eat?"

Her shivering body froze beneath him and she pulled away, looking at him with red rimmed eyes.

"What do you mean?" She sniffed. "I do." He closed his eyes, unsure of what he was asking.

"I can basically count your bones, and all you've had whilst being here is coffee."

Clary sighed.

"Look. It's not… how you think." He raised an eyebrow. "I'm broke. I do eat, of course I do, it's just… I haven't been paid in a while, and I've just been living off of instant noodles and coffee. I'm fine, everything will get sorted soon."

"You know, I'm not going to charge you for food here…" He said jokingly, and she looked downcast.

"I know; I just don't want to owe anyone. I mean, you're practically a stranger yet I'm living with you, and I can't pay you back because the bank I use was robbed by my father, right after losing my money." She clenched her fists in frustration.

"I'm a freelance artist and despite all my clients paying perfectly legally, it's like the next day my bank account is empty- I mean, my brother borrows money a lot so that his company can't track his spending, but he always pays it back." Jace was lost- at least she wasn't hurting herself on purpose.

"Well, I'm sure that's another mystery to solve. How about we order take out- I'm sure Maia's hungry too. Bat's gonna stop by soon anyway."

He stood up in a nonchalant manner, as if the two of them hadn't just spilled their guts unintentionally. Clary stood too, if reluctantly. Jace rolled his eyes.

"I'm serious Clary- we're friends, right? Besides, after all we've been through together, you don't owe me anything."

She nodded, biting back a protest. It wasn't a battle that she needed to have, so she rose from the bed and followed Jace from the room.

/

"Mom, it's me!" Jonathon pushed through the door of his mother's house, the smell of coffee and candles warm and inviting.

"I'm in the kitchen!" He heard his mother yell, and he loosened his tie and headed for the kitchen where he was met with the sight of his mother at the dining table, the detective he had met at the hospital sat next to her. He met his mother's eyes which were hardened with worry, and held out a hand for the man to shake as h rose from his seat.

"Jonathon Fray." He said, putting as much force into his grip as possible.

"Detective Graymark." Luke retorted. "I was just updating Jocelyn…" Jon leant against the counter, watching the man in front of him shift uncomfortably.

"Actually, he was just leaving." Jocelyn stood up and gestured toward the door. Luke coughed uncomfortably before following her out of the room, Jon listening for the sound of the door before sitting down at the table. His mother returned a moment later.

"What was that all about?" He asked her as she began pulling out mugs for coffee. She sighed, placing a hand on her forehead before continuing.

"Nothing. He was just checking in on the families." Jon accepted the drink she passed to him, and raised his eyebrows. The tension in the room was far more serious than that.

"Right, well, I wanted to ask if you've heard from Clary? I've lost my phone, and she hasn't returned any of my calls." He took a long gulp of the hot drink, savouring the relief the presence of his mother had on him. Jocelyn bit her lip before replying.

"She's staying with a friend, I believe. Luke knows." She was clearly hiding something, but Jon just smirked at her.

"Luke?" He said. Jocelyn looked away.

"Detective Graymark. An old…"

"Friend?" Jon cut her off, eyebrows raised. She shook her head, and her sombre tone wiped the smile from his face.

"No. Just someone from the past. But Clary's fine."

The way she was acting seemed off to Jon- his mother was the most fiercely protective person he knew, there was no way she would be so calm about Clary not getting in contact.

"Mom…" He began, finally noticing the tight grip his Mom had on her mug. "What's going on? What don't I know?"

"Nothing, Jon. Everything is fine- okay?" Her tone was threatening.

"Obviously it's not okay, where's Clary? What friend is she staying with- there's no way she would leave that apartment, she doesn't even agree to stay at my place!"

His mother stood up and emptied her drink down the sink, placing her palms flat on the counter and shutting her eyes.

"How's Seelie?" She said, too brightly. She was changing the subject. Jon brought his fist down on the table, and Jocelyn jumped.

"Tell me what's going on." He said angrily, standing up as the agitation bubbled inside him. "If you know something's wrong, why won't you tell me?"

His mother remained silent.

"Fine. Maybe Luke will have some answers." He made a quick exit from the room, and Jocelyn spun around, attempting to stop him.

"Jonathon, stop! Don't do this, just leave it, okay? I'm telling you everything is fine."

She followed him out the front door, and her son whirled around, staring her down. His similarity to his father was uncanny at that moment, striking hair and tall stature intimidating.

"You promised not to lie to me anymore." He said quietly, seething inside. "You swore that we weren't going to get mixed up in this kind of thing. Yet here we are, arguing again because you can't help but keep secrets!"

"Jon, please." She whispered, but he just gestured her away.

"Call me when you decide what your priorities are." He said scathingly, and climbed back into his car.

He gripped the steering wheel tightly as he sped down town; he knew that he was going too fast, but he didn't care. He had to get some answers.

He had spent years neglecting his family; he was three years older than Clary, and when his father had started getting involved in some… bad stuff, he had ignored it. He had let his Dad hurt his mother, hurt his sister. He was too busy getting high behind school with his skeezy mates to care. But Clary never gave up on him, even though he constantly told her to leave him alone, she always forgave him.

And now she was in trouble, and no one would tell him anything.

Finally he made it to the police station, knuckles white and head pounding. He clambered out of his car and pushed his way through the doors, through the crowds of people until he found a desk with what he assumed to be a receptionist sat behind it.

"I'm looking for Detective Graymark." He said carefully to the brunette behind the desk. She glanced up at him with a pen in her mouth, taking in his dishevelled look, and took the pen away from her lips to respond.

"First office on the right. It has a name plate- he's free." Then she went back to idly chewing a pen.

He blanched at the obvious lack of security, but didn't question it as he made his way to the office, immediately bursting in without knocking to find Luke standing at his desk shuffling papers. Luke turned around in shock, dropping papers to the ground. Jon walked in, slamming the door shut behind him, and turned to face Luke who was glued to the spot, watching for the young man's next move.

"Can I help you?" He said calmly. His manner was collected, and the serious tone of his voice cooled Jonathon's anger- Luke began to push together the papers that had scattered.

"What were you talking to my mother about?" He asked bluntly, watching to see the man's change in expression. It remained calm.

"Why don't you take a seat, Jon." "He said, moving to sit behind his desk.

"It's Jonathon to you. And I'm good. I want to know where my sister is, and why my mother won't tell me anything." His forceful tone had no effect on the man in front of him, so instead he sighed and finally sat down in the chair that Luke had offered. "Just tell me what's going on… Please."

Luke began looking through a pile of papers, pulling a few out and folding them together.

I'm only doing this because your mother is an old friend." He said sombrely, passing over the papers. "Don't read them here, and don't mention this to anyone." He warned. "All I can say is that it's not safe for your sister to have you shouting about her whereabouts, okay? It's not safe at all."

Jonathon tucked the papers into his jacket, his blood running colder than before. He stood, briefly shaking hands with Luke before crossing back to the door, only to halt at the door handle.

"She says she didn't know you well." Jon started. "My mother, but all I know is that her past few boyfriends have been called Luke, and if that's something to do with you, you might want to talk to her." And with that he yanked the handle and traipsed out of the station, the pack of papers burning beneath his jacket.

/

"Is the target in place?" Came Valentine's voice, the scars on his face harsh in the cold light of day.

"Yes, sir." Sebastian replied, twirling a knife idly in his fingertips. "He's set to be discharged tomorrow morning."

"Good… And the location of my daughter?" He began, an edge in his voice. Sebastian's eyes narrowed in frustration.

"I've checked the homes of all involved; the only issue is the Lightwood boy. His family home has a room for him, just no sign of him. I'm beginning to think they may be in police protection." He said, but Valentine just laughed cruelly.

"Oh, if the police had them, I would know."

/

The room smelled like Chinese food and beer, and Bat surveyed the scene he had just walked in on as Jace ushered him through the door, dead bolting it behind him.

Maia and Kaelie were both on the couch, laughing intensely. Clary was sat with her back to the couch, a white pad of paper in her hands that she was writing slowly on. Jace pulled out a chair from his kitchen and was slumped on it next to the sofa, and Eric was no where in sight.

"Hey." He said into the room, dumping down his bag and accepting the beer Jace offered. "What's going on?"

Clary looked up from her page and smiled at him whilst the two on the sofa kept giggling.

"Matt and Ben hit the booze early." She said carefully, eyeing up Maia and Kaelie. Maia caught a look at Bat and waved frantically.

"Look! We have… Matching casts! Like cripple sisters." Kaelie laughed at this and leant her head into the couch. Bat smiled uncomfortably and went and sat beside Clary, who had flipped her book shut and was drinking from a bottle of water.

"Where's Eric?" Clary asked carefully as Jace got up from his chair and sat beside the other two on the floor. Bat shrugged.

"Said he wanted some time alone- I don't think he's… okay with it, you know? Okay with all of this." He took a long swig, and Jace followed suit.

"I really don't think any of us are." Jace said roughly. Clary looked up and caught his eye, letting the harsh gold wash over her like the voices of Maia and Kaelie.

"What did I miss then?" Bat said, and Jace broke eye contact with Clary, preparing to tell him the adventures of Clary and Jace in the hospital alleyway. Bat continued to frown as Jace told him of the event, and as he finished telling him of their escape via the Lightwood siblings Bat stopped him.

"So… do your siblings know? About what's happening?" He said, and Jace shook his head.

"He told them that we met in the bank, that's about it." Clary added.

"Right- so we're keeping on the down low? Because Jordan is being discharged tomorrow, and he'll want to go back to our apartment; I know it." Jace nodded solemnly.

"I don't know where else to go, I mean- Luke is working on it but-" He was cut off by a knock on the door. The three looked at each other, and Jace raised an eyebrow.

"Eric?" Clary said, and Bat grunted in agreement. Jace sighed and heaved himself up, walking to the door- careful to leave the chain on; his precautions, however, meant nothing as a strong fist landed against the door, shaking it and getting everyone's attention.

/

This wasn't possible. It couldn't be. His father was out to get his sister, and the police were either corrupt or ignorant.

All sorts of furious thoughts ran through Jonathon's head as he made his way to the address scrawled on the bottom of the paper's he had been given. It was in a fancy part of town, a high rise sort of place, and he had no idea why Clary would be there. But it was his only lead.

Straight after leaving the police station Jon had pulled the papers from his pocket and read them thoroughly; some were Luke's handwritten notes, and some were from the case file from the bank robbery.

There was even a written statement from his own mother, explaining how she had hidden Clary's birth certificate and some of his father's belongings in order to keep them away from Valentine. She had had it for all this time and she hadn't bothered to tell him. This only spurred his anger- and worry for his sister- more.

He found the building and blindly followed the directions until he made it to the address written down. Twenty three; a bronze number stared at him, and the first though that went through his head was a thought of insanity- what was he doing here?

But then, through the seemingly heavy wooden door, he heard her voice.

"He told them we met in the bank- that's about it."

He heard her voice crystal clear, seemingly unscathed and confident. It took him a brief moment to regain his composure before he took it upon himself to knock. His sister was in there.

Before he knew it he was knocking loudly, aggressively. Time was sluggish as he heard footsteps approach the door, and just as someone pulled it back slightly, he found himself hitting out at it again. Desperately.

"Jesus!" He heard a voice behind the door. "Who the hell is that?"

"Eric?" A male voice, softer than the last rang out.

"I don't think so; he's not exactly aggressive-guy." Clary. It was Clary.

"Clary!" He yelled out. "It's me!"

/

The second the door shook with the second knock Clary found herself gripping Bat's arm desperately. He had risen up; meeting Jace's shocked exclamation with his own. That's when she heard him.

"Clary!" The trespasser yelled. Jace and Bat looked at her questioningly. "It's me!" She saw the two exchange glances, but she was to busy moving toward the door.

"It's okay, Jace." She said, letting him move aside for her to open the door. "It's Jonathon."

And with that she swung the door open to be met with the sight of her brother, tired green eyes shining back at her, rumpled suit and crumpled paper in hand.

The sight was quickly gone as Jonathon leant forward and scooped her up into his arms, gripping tightly and checking over her for injuries. She didn't appear injured- a few bruises on what skin was visible, and she was decked in an enormous sweater, but other than that she was fine.

"I've been calling and calling you- Mom wouldn't tell me anything. God, after everything that's been going on…"

"I'm sorry, Jon, really." She muttered into his ear, brilliant blonde hair tickling her cheek. "I've been staying with friends- my phone broke."

He finally pulled away from her, examining her face. Her hollow cheeks were still prominent- something he had given up talking about a long time ago- but her long curls of vibrant hair were loose and free, and she seemed okay. Clary heard a cough from behind her, and Jonathon looked past her to look at the scene.

Two men were standing in the middle of a significantly bare living room, stood beside two sleeping girls on a large couch. There were beers and bottles across the floor and a large window across the back of the room let in the grey light of the outside.

One of the men was shorter than the other, with dark brown hair and brown eyes, his dark complexion marred by a large mark across his cheek. His arms were folded, slightly intimidating, but his expression was kind and curious.

The other was far surlier; he was tall and lean with muscled arms that were crossed over his chest. His sharp jaw was set in a hard expression, and the way he was looking at Jonathon was far less than welcoming.

"Guys, this is Jonathon- my brother." Clary said, ushering in her brother and turning to introduce him to the others. The disgruntled look on Jace's face vanished suddenly, recognition dawning; they looked extremely different, definitely. Except from the eyes.

Bat was the first to step forward, holding a hand out to shake.

"Hey- I saw you at the hospital. Thought you were the boyfriend or something." He said. Jon let out an awkward laugh, and Clary flushed red.

"Nope. No boyfriend, just… Jon." She rambled. Jace grinned, an unusual good mood settling on him.

"Jace." He said, stepping forward. "This is my place- not that it isn't nice to meet you, but how'd you know to come here? No one's meant to know where I… we are?"

Jonathon wrung his hands together, watching his sister carefully.

"I got information from Luke- he's a detective."

At this one of the bodies from the couch suddenly sprung upright, and all four of them let out a yell.

"Luke!" Maia said cheerily. "He's mine!"

Jonathon looked slightly shocked, but she quickly fell back onto the couch beside Kaelie, snoring loudly. He looked to Clary, who grinned.

"Detective Graymark is a friend of Maia's- not in a weird way. He's the one who…" She stopped herself, catching Jace's eye. "The one who told us to stay together." Jon smiled at his sister's attempt to lie.

"S'alright. I know about Valentine." He said. He handed the papers over to Clary, and Bat and Jace let out a sigh of relief; Clary however looked shocked. Jon shrugged.

"I got it out of Luke- I said before. He told me that the cops aren't to be trusted- no shit- then gave me those papers. I'm just glad to see you. I want to help."

The tension in the room eased and everyone began to relax; everyone except from Clary, who was still staring at Jon.

"No." The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. The smile melted from Jon's face.

"What do you mean, no?" He said carefully, and Jace and Bat thought it an appropriate time to leave, dragging the inebriated girls along with them. Clary shut her eyes, a stress induced headache threatening to interrupt her already staggered thoughts.

"I said, no. No, you aren't going to help with this. I won't let you drag yourself into this, get yourself in trouble again. This isn't your problem."

It was Jon's turn to look shocked. Then, livid. His black tinged eyes were darker than green, and for a split second Clary could see the Valentine within him.

"Like hell it's not my problem! You're my problem; you're my baby sister! I'm not going to stand back whilst you get hurt." Clary crossed her arms.

"Yes, you are. Because you have worked so hard, so damn hard to get where you are. And you aren't going to mess any of it up by risking your life for me. You don't owe me anything."

The minute the words left her mouth she wished that she hadn't said them, because she could see the familiar guilty look cross over his face.

"Yes I do." Jonathon replies hoarsely, all traced of anger morphing into grief. "I owe you my life, and you know it. Every single penny I earn belongs to you, every breath I take is yours."

"Don't, please-" Clary tried to interrupt, but it was no use.

"You saved my life Clary; don't think I won't return the favour."

"That was a long time ago, Jonny. This is now; you have a whole new life, a girlfriend. It's not just you, me and Mom anymore." She walked over to him and let his familiar warm arms wrap around her. "Please don't get involved." She whispered, feeling herself finally crack. "I couldn't bear it if anything happened to you. It's me he wants; people are already dead because of me. I can't lose you. I can't."

She let out a low sob, and her brother clung to her as if they were still children.

"Clarissa Adele Fray." He started, burying his head into her fiery hair. "I love you, but you have to stop being stupid." He pulled away, forcing her to look into his eyes. "None of this is your fault, and you aren't alone anymore. I'll protect you."

He looked into her watery face, the tear tracks leaving red lines along her porcelain cheeks.

"I have to go home, arrange some things. Tell your friends to pack a bag; tomorrow I'm getting you all out of the city."

Clary wiped her eyes, knowing full well any other arguments would be futile.

"Jordan- he was in the bank as well- he's being let out of the hospital tomorrow. We were going to go and meet him."

Jonathon nodded, a plan forming in his head.

"Is there any way that someone can get to his house to get some stuff? Or should I send a friend over?" He asked, and Clary nodded.

"Bat lives with him, he can get the stuff." She breathed deep, fear still clutching her heart like a vice. "What are we gonna do?"

"A slippery escape, my dear sister." He smiled a small smile. "Dear old Dad would be proud; look, read the papers, get your things together and I'll meet you and the others tomorrow, outside the hospital, okay? Don't call anyone. I have a safe place, but no one can know that you're leaving. Make sure everyone knows that we won't be coming back- and stick together. It isn't safe."

Clary nodded her head and, after a swift kiss on the cheek, Jonathon was gone.

/

"Jonathon? It's your Mom. Look, a lot of things haven't been said. I'm sorry about earlier, but I desperately need to talk to you. Call me back as soon as you get this. I love you."

Beep. The voicemail clicked off with a resounding tap, and Sebastian looked to Valentine.

"Is she becoming an issue? Say the word, boss, and I can take her out easily." His voice was slick with malice, but Valentine just shook his head.

"As much as your enthusiasm excites me, we have bigger concerns. Besides, if my wife does become too much of a pest, Seelie will be the one to handle it. Mark my words, Jocelyn better watch her back. She always was unbearably thick."

/

After Jonathon left, Clary recounted the events to the boys, not knowing that they had secretly been listening the whole time. All through out the night as they packed their essentials and wondered aloud on where they could be heading, Jace couldn't help his mind from wondering to what Jonathon had said. How had Clary saved his life? They didn't seem the closest, but at the end of their conversation, it was clear that their sibling bond was strong.

Sibling bond.

Crap. He thought. What was he going to tell Izzy and Alec; he couldn't just disappear.

That night everyone slept fitfully, tossing and turning for hours. Clary felt as numb as she ever had, lying silently on the couch, listening out for the breathing of the others. It wasn't until, at around two in the morning, she saw Jace's light switch on that she realised she was too wired to sleep and, on a spur of the moment decision, rose from her makeshift bed and knocked on Jace's ajar door.

"Come in." Came his deep voice. She pushed open the door, attempting to be as quiet as possible, and shut the door behind her.

"Hey." She said quietly, walking uncomfortably forward as she noticed that Jace was shirtless, sitting atop his sheets in just pyjama pants. A large rucksack was at the foot of his bed, identical to the one that Bat had borrowed to stash his stuff in.

"Hi." He replied. "Couldn't sleep?" He queried. She nodded her head, and Jace patted the space on his bed next to him. She sat down, not noticing the way that Jace was admiring her loose tangle of auburn hair, and crossed her legs. They sat, perfectly still and silent, for a few minutes before Clary finally took a breath.

"I'm sorry." She muttered. Jace looked at her.

"What for?" He asked, leaning in. She smelled nice, and he found himself distracted, trying to guess the scent. Possibly apples.

"Getting you into this mess, if I hadn't walked into that damn bank, I doubt any of this would-"

"Stop." Jace interrupted. "Just, don't do that. Don't blame yourself, because I don't. There's only one person to blame for all of this, and despite you calling him father, it is not your fault.

Please stop blaming yourself. "

"I'm so scared." She blurted out, and Jace reached over to hold her hand as tears swam in her eyes. Her fingers were small, soft. Nothing compared to his calloused ones. "I haven't been this scared in a long time, Jace. And I don't know if anyone else is feeling it, but if they are, I am so sorry. Because I am so scared that it hurts."

With that her voice broke, and Jace found himself pulling her into his chest, stroking her back as her arms tightened around his neck. She was breaking.

"Hey; hey. I'm not scared one bit, okay? And you shouldn't be either, because I'm here. We're all here. I've got you."

He rocked her, whispering into her hair until she calmed down.

And that's how they fell asleep, her in his arms, warm and safe, the lights still on until dawn.

/

The next morning was a slow start, Kaelie and Maia nervously pulling poorly packed back packs onto their backs, all of them checking themselves for essentials. Bat had two bags, one for him and one for his best friend, and although he had grown to love the city, at that very moment he couldn't wait to escape. They marched from Jace's flat, Jace last, and as he locked the door he had a sinking feeling that that would be the last time that he saw the bronze twenty three in a long time. Not even the brush of Clary's finger's against his brought any comfort.

Jordan was set to be discharged at nine, so they all trooped into his room at eight thirty, explaining the plan in hushed whispers as Clary and Kaelie manned the door, everyone on edge after an anxious subway journey.

He was shocked at first, confused, but as Bat explained he realised that this was it. They were running away.

"Are you sure, man?" He said to Bat as Jace wheeled him out of his room on the compulsory wheelchair, the girls following along like a funeral procession, Kaelie and Maia swift on their crutches.

"I'm sure. Clary's brother knows that he has a safe place, and it looks like we are all targets."

Jordan nodded, confident that his best friend wouldn't trust Jonathon unless he knew he could, or if he had to.

They finally reached the front doors, and they ditched his wheelchair, Jordan slinging his back pack over his shoulders- much to Bat's indignation- and they moved to the side of the hospital, sticking to the wall to make less of a scene. His chest was killing him, but he kept going.

/

To anyone else, the procession of backpackers away from the hospital may just look like tourists; Sebastian knew better. These were his toys, his wounded birds in cardboard cages. And it was time to rip off their wings.

Setting up the rifle he let his eyes focus within the eyepiece. One shot.

One shot was all he got.

He smacked his gum, pulling back to get a good look at the view once more. One shot, then he was out of there; his finger was hot on the trigger, warm and excited.

One shot.

/

This wasn't real.

One loud, horsewhip of a gunshot exploded the air around her, filling it with a metallic tang.

Clary felt someone behind her stop, and then all of a sudden she was falling, people were screaming. She was screaming, god awful shrieks ripping through her. There had only been one shot, but it was perfect.

Her head hit the ground with a resounding crack, and the person that had pushed her now had their hands cradling her head; it wasn't enough. Through the gaps in their fingers she could see everything, and her head pressed tightly to the ground only gave her a perfect view.

Jordan, tall, butch Jordan. Jordan with the shrapnel in his chest now had a bullet in his head, a perfect circle of crimson horror. The tattoo on his neck had never looked as prominent as it did now, blood oozing out of his skin and onto the cold asphalt – the same pavement that her head was pressed against.

Another shot rang out, piercing. There was more screaming now, and someone talking in her ear, shouting words at her. But her body was shaking. She couldn't even feel, couldn't speak.

All that she could register were the glassy, greenish blue eyes that stared at her, and the fact that she had just watched the life drain out of them.

Greenish blue. Stained forever red.


End file.
